A Random Occurence
by Kinkor the Knight
Summary: The beginning of a new trilogy in the Champions world. Settling into his new role as chief of Berk, Hiccup finds himself caught up in a conundrum of self-doubt as he attempts to lead his people into a peaceful future. But doubt becomes the least of his problems as old rivalries and old enemies combine with a dark conspiracy that threatens the entire region with a new era of chaos.
1. Prologue

**Rights:** Dreamworks and such. Not me. Nope

**Previous Stories in the **_**Dragons: Champions**_** Series (In Order)**:

Standing Against, Standing Between

I Bring The Thunder

Dreams Of The Desolation

The World Needs Champions

**Note**: I have way too much material in these stories to ever properly sum up. I _strongly_ suggest you start at the beginning of the series. Who knows, you might actually enjoy it.

Also, check my profile page for what is considered canon and non-canon in relation to this series.

Author's Irritating Notes:

One era ends and a new one begins, and I have decisions to make.

My goal with doing these HTTYD fanfics has always been two-fold: do things my way, but be loyal to the characters and world I dearly love. Having done four fanfics acting as a sequel series to HTTYD, I had already concluded that I wouldn't be able to use much from HTTYD 2 due to the rather significant gulf between my universe and the official one. I was set to toss it aside and keep doing my own thing.

But the truth is that no one reads fanfic just to read rehashes of the source material (at least, you _shouldn't_ be – where's the fun in that?). Nor do I think you can outright ignore the entire official canon and expect fans to be happy about it, and a lot of things happened in HTTYD 2. Ironically, HTTYD 2 touched on a few themes that I might've pursued myself, and one thing I don't want to do is write stories where people think "Didn't I see this in the movie already?"

So I can't use HTTYD 2… but I can't ignore it either.

Instead, I will strive to incorporate what I can of HTTYD 2 into the _Champions_ universe while adding my own flavor to it. Make no mistake, these next three stories are sequels to my ongoing series, not to HTTYD 2. But you will definitely see the movie's DNA in there.

And yes, three stories. They are not planned as the massive epics I did before, but they will be as long as needed. Story One (this one, A Random Occurrence) is centered completely on Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, and the whole Berk crew. Story Two is about Nestor, Arc, Saga, and the other Champions. Story Three will bring them all together. That's the game plan. And as always, I appreciate all of you for sticking with me.

Onward.

**Prologue**

When it came to describing your average village along the southern section of the North Sea, the verb _sleepy_ showed up the most often. Little action, little culture, and little reason to visit any of them, and Goose Duck was as average as you got. But hours after sundown it was hardly sleepy, at least around the pub. Half the population spent their free time and meager coin enjoying the tolerable libations and even less tolerable company.

Random would've burned the place to the ground by now if she hadn't been instructed not to. Forced to occupy a barstool every night for a week straight, waiting for some fool to bring up the decades-old argument about changing the village name to either Goose or Duck and not keep the current idiotic village name born out of compromise, counting the peanuts in the nut bowl (seventy-four, incidentally) as a way to avoid conversation with a local oaf. At least most of the regulars had gotten the message and…

"Oh, hey, I don't remember you," said the newest local oaf.

Random kept her irritated sigh to herself. A halfway decent-looking man plunked himself on an adjacent barstool and was staring at her with a look that suggested he thought he even had a chance. A resident who hadn't gotten the message yet. Although Random's whole look was tailored to alienate and attract in equal proportions, it still surprised her that there was anyone left in the village that found her worth talking to. This crowd didn't go for women with long purple braids (yes, a die-job), or whose skin had the pallor of a polar bear, or whose clothes were more styled for warm-weather city life than northern climes. She did have a dancer's figure, but that was an inadequate compensation when compared to the strong aura of "outsiderness" she put out. And those few who tried usually found the conversation less than pleasant.

"No, somehow I don't think you would," she replied, keeping her eyes forward, her voice light in tone but strong in snark.

"Name's Fredrick," the local oaf stated as if she had asked. "You passing through?"

"Hopefully," she replied after a swig of… something from her flagon. She honestly couldn't tell what it was. The house special, apparently.

Clearly incapable of taking a hint, Fredrick pressed on. "What's it like, being on the road?"

"It's the opposite of here – exciting."

"Really? Great. I've been thinking of leaving to find my fortune down south, maybe go all the way to someplace like Paris, or Riki Poka. Hey, did you hear about what happened in Riki Poka? Those flying ships and the dragons?"

"I was there," she said absently, but she realized her mistake immediately after seeing the widening of Fredrick's eager eyes. Now she was never going to be rid of the guy.

"Really?" he said. "What was it like?"

"It was dramatic, but it's old news. Three-year-old news. Practically ancient history."

"Wow," said Fredrick, apparently easy to impress. "See, that's why I want to travel. I want to see that kind of excitement."

That was the moment that a resounding _boom_ sounded out from the bar's open doorway, followed by a chorus of smaller, sharper echoes. Unfamiliar with the nature of such sounds, the bar patrons were slow to react. When a second major _boom_ shook the tables and spilled a few mugs, even the slowest patron found the energy to get up and head for the door.

Fredrick gave Random a worried look and then joined the crowd, giving Random the freedom to let a smile come forth. Finally, the waiting was over. She promptly paid her tab (with a generous tip – they'd need the money soon) and walked outside into the chilly air, taking mental notes of the crowd's fearful reactions along with all the observational data she had to keep track of right now.

Much like the rest of the continent, dragons were rare creatures around Goose Duck, but most folks could recognize one flying overhead with little difficulty, even on a moonless night. The town's feeble torchlights allowed a rare glimpse of a wing here, a scale there, so there was little doubt as to what was above them. The confusing part came from the fires that seemed to come out of nowhere, the roof of one house erupting into orange-yellow flame, or the strange mini-_booms_ resounding through the night, thunder without the lightning, though sometime a brief flash of red would show up in the sky, accompanying the sounds.

"Is this a dragon attack?" said a frightened nearby local.

"Has to be," said another one. "Old Man Horus just had his barn catch fire."

"His barn's always catching fire," commented a third local.

A cry for help motivated most of the crowd to stop staring and form a bucket brigade. As the crowd thinned, Random found herself out in the open and alone with her thoughts. She allowed herself a little giggle as the chaos intensified, the shouts of the locals desperately trying to save their homes mingling with the roar of thunder-like echoes and hungry conflagrations. It enveloped her, a symphony of fear that made her want to dance a little jig.

The sweet song of chaos. It always got the blood pumping.

There was a loud report over her head, coming from a swooping shadow, and one of the bar's doors abruptly acquired a massive splintery hole. Another pop, and the second door was equally holey. Random stared at the damage with growing glee. Even from a distance, even at night, the test was proving a spectacular success.

"Whoa," said an unwelcome voice. Random turned to find Fredrick holding his bucket of water and staring at the damaged doors dumbly. Had he come back to find her, or did he forget where the fire was? Either way, Random was too giddy to care.

"How'd that happen?" he said. "Did a dragon do that?"

"In a way," she answered.

"Huh?"

"Don't sweat the thinking, Freddy-boy," she added. "There are better people for that. And I believe the fires are _that_ way."

Fredrick turned and ran for the nearest burning residence, spilling half the bucket before he got there. Random took this as a good time to leave before a session of question-the-stranger could start. She had all the data she needed, enough to satisfy her boss. And she had another job to get to, one that should prove far more exciting, and ultimately, tons more chaotic.

She'd have to pack a warmer coat, though. Berk could get pretty cold, so she'd heard.


	2. An Unprecedented Period

**Quick Reminder:** I'll be doing my usual thing and putting out one chapter a week on late Thursday mornings/early Friday nights. I went ahead and actually got this whole story written out ahead of time for a change, so there shouldn't be any problems unless I suddenly lose both my hands in some kind of horrible cat-related accident... I'm watching you, cat!

**Chapter One: An Unprecedented Period**

Once upon a time, a marauder could sail unhindered from one end of the North Sea to the other, picking and choosing any number of villages and trade ships to plunder. But thanks to increased patrols by Gunnarr warships, as well as the conscriptions done by the Alchemist three years ago, the pirate/raider industry had lost its hold on the region, and its grip loosened further with each passing day.

Mind you, there were always an upstart captain or two trying to make a name for himself and start a promising career. He usually found out that there was a _third _reason why piracy was on the outs, and typically found out the hard way. The reason in question had ebony scales and long wings and was currently putting a plasma bolt into the main deck of one such hapless pirate captain's ship, turning a top-of-the-line ballista into kindling and sending the nearby crew diving for cover.

To the pirates' credit, they had come prepared for dragon troubles, equipping their ship with an abundance of crossbows and ballistae and even a few bola launchers that were supposed to be perfect for taking down hostile flying reptiles. But none of them were equipped for _that_ dragon. The legendary one, the one the tales talked of all across Europe. The one that had ended the Dragon War, the one that had helped defeat the Alchemist, the one that now patrolled the frigid waters of the North Sea and brought its wrath upon those that preyed on the innocent.

The black Night Fury fired off another blue-flamed shot, this one taking out a harmless bunch of supply barrels. The ensuing cloud of debris and smoke got the message across very effectively, and the crew was having increasing difficulty keeping their calm from capsizing, much less their ship.

"Ahoy, pirate guys," yelled the dragon's rider as the Night Fury circled above the wounded ship. "I'm saying that right, aren't I? Ahoy? That's what you guys say?"

They didn't, but no one wanted to point that out. Not that the leather-clad rider looked all the imposing, but he certainly meant business. His face was hidden under a helmet, he had a number of strange doodads and items attached to his riding suit, and his left foot was a false metal one that appeared to be attached to the harness wrapped around the dragon. He had the form of a seasoned adventurer, but the rider could've been wearing a jester's outfit for all the pirates cared. The dragon was what held their attention as it growled threateningly in their direction.

"I've heard you been hitting villages up and down the coast. I don't much like that, so I'll mention that this area is under my protection. I suggest all of you head back to where you came from. Otherwise, the next fireball from Toothless will be below the waterline, and it's a long swim to the coast from here."

There was an uncomfortable silence as the pirate captain weighed his options. Hiccup leaned down toward his companion's right ear and whispered through his helmet, "Wait for it, bud. Five… four… three…"

"Come about, mates," shouted the captain, glowering at the dragon and his rider as the ship shifted course to a heading opposite of its previous one.

"We're getting good at this, bud," commented Hiccup as he watched the ship move away. "If this keeps up, we'll only have to give the next pirate ship angry looks and they'll take off running."

Toothless looked back at his long-time friend and waggled happily. Hiccup didn't think Toothless really cared about the plight of the innocent along the coast of the North Sea, at least not the way Hiccup did. Toothless was protective of Hiccup and those he considered his "nest," and he'd fight against anyone threatening them, but Toothless wasn't a big-picture kind of dragon. No dragon was, really… well, except the Hyperion, and there were only six of those guys in the entire world. Toothless simply trusted Hiccup not to steer him wrong; Hiccup's fight automatically became his fight.

Toothless gained some altitude and kept to a holding pattern for a time while Hiccup watched the ship sail off to the west, where it would hopefully keep going and going and leave the North Sea entirely. If not, they could expect another visit from Hiccup and Toothless; one that would ensure the ship never sailed again. Usually such visits weren't required. Most pirates preferred easy targets.

"Right, one more pirate crew heading for early retirement." Hiccup glanced south, at the faint outline of the north coast barely visible through the light ocean mist. "Let's go tell the villagers the good news."

Toothless growled his acknowledgement and went into a dive, picking up speed as they headed for the coast and scooting just above the waves. As pleased as Hiccup was to get in some action and send another pirate ship packing, the effort had cost him a lot of time. He'd be lucky if he made Berk by nightfall at this rate, and he would definitely catch some heat for it. But it was a small price to pay for a day off from his real job, a job that required more finesse and tact than dragon fire allowed for.

* * *

><p>Tempest Point – a village with a lot of memories for Hiccup, but a village with a remarkably short memory of its own, thank the gods.<p>

Hiccup had Toothless do a long approach so that the villagers could see him coming, landing on the far side of the village proper and walking in the rest of the way. The simple farming village hadn't changed its image much since his last visit, but it was certainly doing better, no longer the muddy hole of blatant destitution it once was. The lack of piracy had done the village economy a dose of good, as the place now had actual gravel roads and a state of housing higher than hovel. While most of the villagers kept their distance, wary but not hostile, two middle-aged men approached him with genuine smiles. Two brothers with only a year's distance in their birthdays that Hiccup recognized from earlier in the day – Mick and Rick… or Mike and Bick… or was it Mike and Ike? They were officially Chief and Co-Chief of Tempest Point, sharing what few duties a small village required of them. They had tipped him off about the pirate ship in the area, and though they didn't directly ask him for help, he had offered it just the same.

Hiccup removed his helmet and moved to shake their hands, keeping Toothless behind him so to avoid making folks too nervous. Hiccup found that when it came to foreign relations, you should always attempt to be as friendly-looking as possible. A difficult prospect when your mode of transportation was something that most people ran from on sight. Thankfully, the stigma against dragons had lessened over the last five years, most especially in the last three, so that you could at least step into any village along the coastline with a dragon in tow without immediately getting pitchforked. Hiccup also had one of the least-threatening faces a Viking could ever wear. Despite finally achieving a more respectable height thanks to a final growth spurt, he still didn't have that intimidating Viking physique that the rest of his clan had. While it made it easier for him to deal with outsiders, it made it harder to convince people that he was, in fact, a Chief now. Non-Vikings still perceived Vikings as the types that placed only the strongest and meanest people in positions of leadership.

"True to your word, you are," said the brother on the right. "We saw the pirate ship skedadle. Those blighters would've hit us for sure."

"We be in your debt, we are," said the other brother. "We have little in the form of recompense, I fear."

Hiccup waved away the idea. "I'm just being a good neighbor, guys. We all live by the same sea, you know."

"Perhaps trade is in order," said the first brother. "Our villages might benefit. We have a surplus of onions."

"And rats," said the other brother, eliciting a cuffing to the head from the first brother.

"We need not inform him of that," the first brother scolded. As if to drive home the point, a pair of rats boldly crossed in front of Toothless on their way to a nearby stable. Toothless snarled at the brazen creatures and sent them scurrying.

"That's… not necessary," said Hiccup. Truth be told, as much as he wanted to broaden relations with other settlements, he had a particular reason for helping out Tempest Point: guilt. Three years after the fact, the damage was all repaired and you'd never had known that the village had been the site of Hiccup's first encounter with Artisan technology and the infuriatingly persistent villain known as Cervantes. It was also where Hiccup had met Nestor and Arc for the first time. Much of the village had gotten wrecked in the process. The people didn't recognize him, not surprising considering the level of insanity of that day, and they weren't holding anything against him. But he still felt like a debt needed repaying, as he and his friends had dragged the village into a fight that hadn't been theirs. The least he could do was keep them safe.

"Actually, unless you guys have any other problems that can be solved with a dragon, I really should get going. Long flight home and…"

"I have something you can do for me," said a voice from off to the side. A heavy-set woman with a hoe in hand approached, and she looked none too pleased. Not in the beating-you-about-the-head-and-shoulders-with-my-farm-implement way, but definitely put out about something.

"Maddie, this man just drove off some pirates," said the other brother. "Is it important?"

"I'd say it is," said Maddie. The glare she shot at Hiccup was full of accusation. "I've heard on the grape vine that the town of Goose Duck was attacked by dragons. That village isn't very far from us."

"Dragons?" said the first brother. "We don't have dragon attacks."

"I _know_," said Maddie. "But it happened a week ago in Goose Duck… and then this young fella and his dragon shows up today."

Hiccup's brow furrowed. He wasn't sure which was worse; the idea of renewed dragon attacks not all that far from Berk, or the direction this conversation was going. "This is the first I heard of something like that happening in years. Can you tell me what happened?"

Maddie must have been expecting a more hostile attitude from Hiccup, as there was an uncertain look to her eyes. When the two brothers pressed her to share, she did so in a less accusatory tone. "I only know what I heard – late at night a bunch of dragons swept into Goose Duck, started setting buildings on fire. A quarter of the village was torched. Might have been worse if hadn't rained the night before. No one died, thank the Heavens."

"What kind of dragons were they?" asked Hiccup.

"Too dark to see. The big flying types, I guess."

Hiccup frowned. Without knowing dragon types, he wouldn't be able to discern much just from Maddie's story. "Was there anything unusual about the attacks?"

Maddie's accusing tone returned. "Outside of the dragons?"

"Maddie, he's trying to help," said the other brother.

"Fine," she sighed, taking her tone down a notch. "Actually, there were a couple of weird details. People said they had a hard time spotting the dragons because it didn't look like any of them were breathing fire. Fire just… happened. There were also a lot of strange sounds that night, like the sky was thundering but with no lightning, and some homes had these holes in them that came out of nowhere."

She reached into a coverall pocket and retrieved an object. She held it out for all to see. Hiccup's impression was that it was an iron ball bearing the size of a small pebble, though it was too rough to be useful in any machinery.

"They dug out these little metal balls from some of the holes," said Maddie. "The dragons must have been shooting these out of their mouths."

"I don't know of a single dragon that can do that," said Hiccup. "May I?" Maddie allowed him to take the ball bearing in his hand. He rolled it around and got the feel of it. No, too course to be good for much of anything, and the metal was ordinary. But it was definitely human-made. The workmanship was shoddy, but even a blacksmith's apprentice had a good eye for the work of a fellow smith.

"One more thing," said Maddie. "One fella, some half-wit named Fredrick, swore he saw someone _riding_ atop the dragons. But he was the only one to say so, so most folks dismiss the idea… though having you show up here…"

"Maddie, no more," said the first brother. "This man risked himself and his dragon to scare off those pirates. You've had your say, now let us be."

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention," said Hiccup, mostly to be courteous. "I'll look into it if I can."

Maddie harrumphed, not wanting to hear such pleasantries. "You can keep the ball. I expect we'll be seeing more of them pretty soon."

As Maddie walked away, Hiccup couldn't help but feel a familiar disquieting churning in his stomach. What was it with Tempest Point and insane situations? Just once, he'd like to do a good deed and have it go unpunished. Now he had a new mystery to investigate… and no time for it.

* * *

><p>Dragons that caused fire without breathing it out. Small metal balls that caused huge holes. Thunder without lightning and a dragon rider sighting to boot.<p>

All very uncomfortable thoughts to dwell on, but that was what Hiccup had to contend with as Toothless sped toward Berk, racing the sun to see who reached their respective horizons first. The sun was going to win, hands-down, but at least they wouldn't get home _too_ long after dark.

It would have been nice to settle in with a good feeling of accomplishment and not fret the big picture, as he had to every other day at Berk. More so than ever before, these trips away from Berk felt like vacations from the cold reality of leadership, allowing him a reprieve from his numerous responsibilities. Sure, there were occasional one-sided battles with pirates, but even that was something to look forward to. Simple, black and white, and easily resolved with enough plasma blasts. Not like dealing with family feuds or storeroom weevil infestations or cabbage shortages or a hundred other problems that found their way to his doorstep.

In the air, things were simple. Him and Toothless, flying the friendly skies together. No rules except the ones governing physics. No one asking for help constantly. No one getting mad at him when it turned out he wasn't perfect and didn't have all the answers.

"You think we should ignore this problem, Toothless?" he asked to the dragon. Toothless, caught up as he was with flying, tilted his head back and gave him a curious look.

"I have enough things to deal with at home, don't I?" Hiccup elaborated. "The last time I got too curious, it led us to some pretty crazy situations. It turned out all right, but just barely. I'd like to help those villagers, but I'm in charge of the tribe. I can't just ignore my responsibilities." Toothless growled out a response, but Hiccup was too inwardly focused to decipher it. Probably something supportive.

He took out the ball bearing from a suit pocket and proceeded to stare at it, hoping the little memento would give him advice or insight or something useful, rather than just sit in his hand and remind him of the world beyond Berk, with all its wonders and terrors and intrigue. Of course, it didn't say a word.

It still amazed him how quickly life could change. Five years ago, no dragon riding or dragon training. Three years ago, no marriage to a wonderful woman. And less than six months ago, he had been a free agent, wandering the airways, exploring the world around Berk and helping where he could. He still had a bit of Champion in him, the intrinsic do-gooder that saw a fight and proceeded to join it.

"I guess it's time I realized that I'm a Chief and not a Champion any longer," he mused, unable to hide the forlorn tone in his voice. "I meant it when I told that lady that I'd look into it… but I have to keep my priorities straight."

Hiccup moved his hand out beyond his saddle and tipped his hand. The ball bearing rolled out of his hand, bounced off Toothless's hide once, then slipped into the rushing breeze and disappeared. His one clue concerning the dragon attack was gone.

With that decision irrevocably made, Hiccup sighed in relief and said, "You know what, Toothless? I forgot to get in some wing suit practice. Let's give it a go once we get closer to Berk. I want to try landing this time." The idea received a noncommittal waggle from Toothless, who was never all that wild about seeing Hiccup flying alongside him.

A sliver of land began to show up on the horizon, the first hazy signs of Hiccup's home island. He instinctively checked the condition of his wing suit's springs and wires, making sure nothing had popped out of place over the course of the day. It made for a nice distraction from the disquieting feeling that lingered in his gut, the one generated from his pestering doubt over whether or not throwing the ball bearing to the wind was a mistake.

* * *

><p>Having spent a good percentage of his life studying, training, and flying with dragons, Hiccup had rightfully come to envy the flying part of a dragon's talents. Flying on a dragon was the best feeling in the world, but that feeling came with a proviso: where the dragon went, so did you. True flight for the human race was out of reach unless you resorted to mystical empowerment to do so, and very few people had that kind of power.<p>

There was also the fact that a rider could get dislodged from their dragon for a number of reasons, and while most dragons made an effort to catch their falling rider (assuming they were on good terms), accidents did happen. Hiccup had worked hard to get beginning riders and their dragons to start off on easy maneuvers and low-altitude flying until a comfort level was built up between dragon and rider, and some riders used harnesses and straps to keep them stuck to their mounts, but no amount of training or safety equipment could make a rider lighter than air. A point driven home by the loss of Stumblegrump over a year ago, a promising rider who had had the misfortune of flying into a group of seagulls while traveling too low to the ground for a midair recovery.

The Alchemist had equipped her men with mystical safety belts that allowed them to survive falls from their airships, and Hiccup had thought it a fine idea to rip off. Naturally, he couldn't do it her way, but that didn't stop him from finding a more dragon-inspired alternative. Hiccup told himself that his newest bout of tinkering really did have useful applications beyond showing off. If he could get all the kinks out of the wing suit's maneuvering issues, he might have a genuine invention that every rider would want to have. But that was just the practical side of him. Truth be told, he was just having too much fun with it.

The sun had taken its leave for the day, hiding behind the cloud-strewn horizon to the west, but the sky had enough leftover light to make this less-than-extremely dangerous. Normally Hiccup reserved this kind of daredevil action for high up in the air, but with the rugged hillsides of Berk looming ahead, he was going to try something a little different tonight: landing.

"Let's do this, bud," he said, hoping the confidence in his voice would soon rub off on his demeanor. Toothless made a sound that might have been a groan, but if it was it was a very resigned groan. Hiccup then switched Toothless's rudder linkup to self-fly, unhooked his left foot from the harness, took a deep breath, and let himself drop off his saddle, slipping off Toothless and into the screaming air. The all-too-familiar feeling of freefall hit him immediately, and he slapped a spring-loaded dial on his suit before his fall became too rapid. A pair of wings shot out of their hidden compartments, connecting his arms to his legs with special sail fabric and turning him into a human glider. He stretched out his arms and veered up, arresting his fall and transforming it into a slow descent toward the ground. On his back, a mini-rudder sprung out of its separate slot, designed to aid him in turning. So far, it hadn't been much help, as the best he usually managed was a few degrees left or right. He could do a straight line pretty well most days.

Toothless kept pace with him off to his right as the two of them sped toward Berk, the signal fires off the coast both guiding and welcoming him home. The village had already called it a night, with few dragon riders out and about. No danger in running into any airborne obstacles… just, you know, the ground.

Hiccup took in the renewed exhilaration as he bent his body with the breeze. After five years of flying on Toothless, the art of flying had lost a little luster. It was still the most amazing thing to do, but the amazement factor had dulled to a kind of predictable excitement, the kind you took for granted. Gliding on your own held its own charm, as was the rush of fear that came from the possibility that your wings might fail on you. After all, this was Hiccup's fifth incarnation of his wing suit, what he called the "successful one."

From the air, Berk still looked like the same sturdy village that had been Hiccup's home for almost all his life. Most of the changes over the years had been internal – stables designed to accommodate large creatures, homes with rooftop entrances, a new Dragon Racing stadium where the old Dragon Arena used to be. So much of the village had become dragon-centric, or at least dragon-friendly, that it was hard to see any signs of the old way of life, back when dragons and Vikings were mortal enemies. Any Viking who couldn't make the adjustment to the new Berk had left years ago, and the village had had a few converts from other tribes who had wanted to get in on the dragon action.

Trade routes were opening up, piracy was on the outs, and there hadn't been a hostile action against Berk in over two years. It was, as Hiccup liked to call it, an unprecedented period of peace and prosperity. The only flaw was that it sometimes led to a bit of boredom, which had led to the creation of the Dragon Races, but then having your life be happily boring worked a lot better than having it be traumatically exciting.

Much like right now, as the coastline approached at a rapid clip and Hiccup scanned for appropriate landing spots. Not a wide selection to choose from for your average glider. Toothless uttered a guttural warning to Hiccup, convinced that Hiccup might want to call off this maneuver and get on his back.

"I got this, Toothless," Hiccup reassured. "Just… stay close." It was an unnecessary thing to say – Toothless always stayed close – but he was feeling too nervous now to monitor his mouth. This part was going to get really tricky. The only safe way to land was to get close enough to the ground so that when he deliberately stalled out to end his flight the drop would be very short. Problem was that it was better to do this on flat terrain and very little of Berk was flat. The suit had some cushioning to resist impacts, but it wouldn't save him from a bad spill.

He settled on a gentle slope near the outskirts of the village that was free of life-ending obstructions. Hiccup came in low, his altitude in the single digits, then banked up and started to climb with the slope, the maneuver slowing him down. As his airspeed dropped, he started to believe that he had this landing routine licked. A rare occasion where doing something for the first time…

Then the yak-driven cart full of hay wheeled into view, right into Hiccup's path.

The driver, who Hiccup didn't recognize off the top of his head, somehow didn't see Hiccup as the young chief struggled to veer out of the way. He was partially successful, clipping the back of the cart with his metal foot and sending him spinning into a nearby pasture that was more mud than grass. Hiccup landed right in the mud, flat on his back, and skidded for several long seconds, coming to rest near a very lackadaisical yak who gave Hiccup a brief glance that basically said _Oh, only you_ before returning to her grazing.

Hiccup's groan covered both the thud of the impact and the coming humiliation. Berk's heroic leader, nearly killed in a wing suit accident of his own making, looking as dignified as the loser of a mud-wrestling tournament. But it seemed that the humiliation part might be waved off, as no one else was around to witness it. The driver had gone on his merry way, apparently incurious about what had hit his cart.

Toothless was more than happy to give him an earful, though, once the dragon landed. To emphasize his unhappiness, he let Hiccup get to his feet in the slippery mud and promptly nudged him, causing Hiccup to slip and hit the mud again.

"Yes, Toothless, I get it," said Hiccup, getting back up and wiping the worst of the clingy mud off his suit. "I really need to stop the stupidity. But you have to admit, I almost had it."

Toothless admitted nothing, other than to start walking off in the direction of home.

"Actually, bud, I want to make a detour," said Hiccup, pointing in the opposite direction. "I want to visit Dad first."

* * *

><p>If any place had largely weathered the dramatic changes to Berk, it was the Great Hall. It had become more accommodating to dragons as time went by, but it was still the same large echoing chamber full of statues to fallen heroes and chiefs. The hall was vacant at this time, most Berkians settling in at home for the night, but a smattering of torches remained lit, casting the room in a subdued, almost reverent light. The hall had many purposes – ceremony, recreation, political business… and remembrance.<p>

Hiccup and Toothless quietly walked past the array of Viking statues, barely giving the stone representations of Berk's history any thought. He'd seen these statues all his life. He knew them pretty well, knew their stories and their importance to Berk's culture. True, many of them were honored for their dragon-killing accomplishments, but they had all fought for the good of Berk.

It wasn't the old statues that he'd come to see. It was the newest one, near the end of the line, the one only five months old.

Hiccup and his dragon pal stopped before it, the statue towering a good ten feet over his head. He still marveled at how good a job the stonecutters had done at capturing his dad's likeness, though the nose seemed a little too long for his tastes. They had him poised like a stern commander overseeing his people, looking off into the distance as if watching for oncoming storms. There wasn't any warmth to his expression, but maybe that was how it should be. Statues were for the tribe, a symbol of Berk's defiance against all threats, an example of how to lead the people.

Hiccup didn't actually like coming here. The cold visage of Stoick the Vast, always looking away, never looking at him, only served to remind him of the loving father he'd lost such a short time ago. But tonight, he felt he needed to come here.

"Hi, Dad," he said to the statue. "Sorry that I haven't been here for a few weeks. I hope Valhalla is treating you right, with all the honey mead you can drink. I've been busy getting settled into this chief thing, and… it's not easy. I keep thinking some hidden part of you is in me somewhere and it'll kick in after awhile, but it doesn't feel like it's getting any easier. Gobber says that every chief goes through the same thing. I want to believe him, but sometimes it feels like I'm having the same problem I've always had – trying to push myself into a place I don't fit."

Maybe it was better that his dad wasn't looking at him. He was afraid that there would be judgment in that gaze, even disappointment.

"You made it look easy, Dad. I find myself waiting for the one day a week where I can make an excuse to get on Toothless and fly away from Berk. I know I'm supposed to make Berk the priority, but sometimes I feel trapped, like all my best days are behind me. Is that normal? Do all chiefs go through that… or is it just me?"

No answer, and there never would be. Toothless kept quiet behind Hiccup, for which Hiccup was appreciative.

"The only way I know how to deal with all this is to think 'what would Dad do?' I don't know if it helps or not. Let's face it – you and I didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things. But I'm trying to do this the way you would. I just wish I felt like it was working."

The more he talked, the more his mind was dragged back to a pivotal moment in time, one of the last memories of him and his father together in this life. A little over six months ago, during the long winter, many weeks after the village healer had told them all the terrible news…

* * *

><p>The door to the old homestead creaked its greeting to the young Dragon Rider as he passed through the threshold, as he had every day for the last few weeks. Hiccup had come to dread the moment he stepped inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom before he could make out his father's bedridden form past the roaring fire, hoping to see if his dad was still breathing and sadly anticipating the day when he wasn't.<p>

But today was not that day. Stoick's chest rose and fell as always, though more labored than in the past. Languishing like a lumpy piece of furniture on the other side of the house, Stoick turned his head to his son and waved him over to his bedside. Hiccup sighed in relief as he walked over, giving his dad's outstretched hand a gentle squeeze. There had once been so much strength in that calloused grip that shaking hands required wearing a gauntlet just to avoid losing all feeling in your fingers. Now he could barely hold onto Hiccup's hand.

"Same time as always," said Stoick, his voice soft and growing softer every day. "Every time you come by, I know I've made it another day."

"How're you feeling today?" Hiccup's standard question. His dad's face had thinned a bit, though he had a ways to go before going full gaunt. He didn't eat much anymore. Not much appetite, and not much reason to bother.

"About as good as expected." Stoick's standard answer. The Village Elder had him taking an herbal remedy that stemmed the worst of the pain, though it made him drowsy most of the time. Stoick's eyes were more alert than usual, focused intently on his son. Hiccup had to wonder if his dad had skipped today's dose, and why.

"The offer still stands, Dad," said Hiccup. "I can move it again, keep an eye on you…"

"… And watch me wither away day in and day out," interrupted Stoick. He weakly shook his head. "Son, my mutinous organs are taking me away from my life. They shouldn't take you away from yours as well. Besides, I have a steady stream of well-wishers. Gobber comes in and puts me to sleep with tales of our childhood, telling me tales of our childhood as if I didn't know them first-hand."

That old stubborn pride rearing its head, and for once Hiccup couldn't blame him. Vikings had it ingrained in them that dying in battle was the only way to properly reach Valhalla, and up until five years ago such a fate wasn't too hard to find. Having an unprecedented period of peace and prosperity had made Valhalla harder to find. Many of Stoick's friends had offered to take Stoick by ship or by dragon to Outcast Island or some other hostile clan and have him die in a more proper fashion, rather than waiting for his body to give out. There was even a poorly tasted joke that if he really wanted to ensure his place in the afterlife, just have Toothless or some other dragon finish him off. Hiccup never saw the humor in the idea.

Stoick refused to go seeking his death. When he had been told by the Elder of his condition, there arose a calm in him that Hiccup had never seen before, as if the revelation that his final days were upon him had come with a release of his troubles. He stated that he would rather be confined to the interior of his home than to perish away from his family. He still hated all the attention that came with it. The idea that people might die of old age in Berk remained a novel concept.

He wasn't that old though. Not as old as the Elder, not even as old as some of his friends. Hiccup had learned to leave his tears at the door for the sake of his dad's pride, but it ate at him something fierce. After all those years of disapproval and dysfunction and conflict, they wound up getting so little time together in this new age they had created together. His dad might be at peace with the idea, but Hiccup only felt the unfairness of it, the helplessness. There was no favor he could call in, no elixir or artifact or special technique, which would stop this. Hiccup had dodged dealing with death on numerous occasions, but this time it was going to stick.

"But today should not be about me, Hiccup," said Stoick. "Today… I need to give you my blessing for taking over as chief. I should give it before I… go… to avoid any dissention in the village."

As much as Hiccup dreaded his dad's passing, he dreaded this eventuality just as much. He had escaped the question until now, keeping things focused on his dad's care, and it was thanks to the team-effort of Hiccup, Astrid, and Gobber that the village was running fairly smoothly. But the crowds were getting restless, because everyone knew that Stoick's days were done. They cared about Stoick, the bounty of hand-woven wreathes and earnest memorials outside the front door showed that much, but they also cared about leadership, about the potential disruption to their lives. They wanted a new chief in place, the sooner the better, and everyone knew who it was going to be.

Only Hiccup hadn't said yes. And now, with Stoick all but demanding action, Hiccup could no longer keep avoid the issue.

"Dad… I don't think me becoming chief is a good idea."

He braced himself for the outrage, fearing that even Stoick's weakened state wouldn't stop him from sitting up and throttling his son. But instead… he laughed. Quietly, weakly, but still a laugh.

"Uh… is this a 'ha-ha, good one, son' laugh, or a 'I'm so disappointed I'm laughing' laugh?"

"Neither, son," explained Stoick, his eyes reflecting only a father's understanding, not condemnation. "I know how you feel. It's an enormous burden, taking the lives of your people into your hands."

"It's not just that, Dad," said Hiccup. "I mean… look at me. I know more about dragons than people. Strangers still look at me like I'm the comic relief. I'm happy to spend long hours flying and working on gadgets… you know, _away_ from people. How does any of that spell leader?"

"You've led your Dragon Squad in defense of Berk countless times," countered Stoick. "You put the lives of others over your own. You make the most unlikely of friends in the most unlikely of times. The village respects you, Hiccup."

"But… Dad… I'm not cut from the same cloth as you, or any of the other chiefs we've had."

"Exactly." Stoick's beard stretched as a tired smile found its way onto his face. "Berk has changed, son, and our new leader has to reflect this change."

He managed to move his left hand from under his bed covers, gripped Hiccup's hand with both of his. Even now, Hiccup figured he could've broken free of his dad's grip with little effort. The thought depressed him.

"I don't expect you to feel comfortable about this, Hiccup," said Stoick, "and if you truly feel strongly that leading our people is not your fate, I will respect that. But I ask you, for the good of our people, for everything that we have built together, that you give this serious thought. Just… don't wait too long to decide."

Struggling to hold back those darn tears, Hiccup nodded and sat in silence, holding up the hands that had once held Hiccup's infant body effortlessly in the air, the hands that had guided Berk for so many long years, the hands of the man that had learned to accept what had once been unacceptable.

Two days later, Hiccup told him his decision.

One day after that, Stoick was gone.

* * *

><p>A day of mourning was declared on the day Stoick passed on, his body laid in a ceremonial boat prepped for a one-way journey. Most of the village populace gathered down at the docks while others lined the cliff tops or manned longboats as Stoick's private vessel was set loose into the expansive ocean. While many Viking traditions in Berk had passed on, the fires that lit up Stoick's boat still came from the arrows of his people, and not from any dragon. Hiccup had watched the burning funeral pyre fade away with grief and pride in his heart, leaning on Astrid and Toothless as the ocean current led his father to his final resting place.<p>

Speeches were made, drinks were had, and remembrances were recalled over the course of the day, Hiccup inundated with tales of his father's bravery and heroism. Gobber kept things light with a few less-glamorous tales of their youth, like the time he and Stoick went skinny-dipping on the north coast of the island only to get surprised by a pack of wild boars and forced to run home clothes-free. Their explanation for showing up in the village buck-naked involved changing the boars in the story to a very-angry Monstrous Nightmare. More dignified that way.

Hiccup had tried to be as manly and… stoic as he could during the day, like a Viking was supposed to be. But it all got to be too much, and he excused himself to turn in early. Astrid accompanied him home and the two of them spent the rest of the night curled up in bed, Astrid holding him while he cried his tears and rambled on about Stoick-this and father-that.

"I feel like there's a hole in me," he said to Astrid. "I've gotten so much love and admiration from everyone, but I just feel the hole in my life where Dad used to be. I should be honoring him, not crying over him."

"Hiccup, there's nothing wrong with missing your dad," Astrid gently reassured. "When someone means something to you, you mourn them, and I know your dad meant a lot to you."

"I guess I thought I was ready for this," he said. "I've had weeks to get ready. But it still hurts."

Astrid hugged him a little tighter and said, "I think we both know that you can't really be ready for death. If it matters, it hurts. So stop trying to tell yourself not to feel it, or that you have to quit feeling it. I'll be here with you for as long as it takes."

Hiccup had a few more sad observations within him that were itching to get out, but Astrid's advice managed to stifle them for now. He rested his forehead against hers and let another tear slip down his face. It still didn't feel right to get all emotional in front of the village, but he always felt safe with Astrid, even safe enough to hurt.

"There's no way I'd have survived this long without you," he told her. "You know that, right?"

She raised her head and gave him a loving peck on the cheek. "I thought that was a given."

* * *

><p>One sunrise and one ceremony later, Hiccup was the new chief. Cheering and singing might have been involved, but Hiccup had been in such a daze about it that he barely remembered feeling the Elder's ashy fingers on his forehead as she anointed him with the symbol of clan leadership. One thought repeated in his head over and over, like a mating birdcall from a very determined swallow: <em>now I'm <em>_**really**__ in for it._

"As much as I complain, I like to think I'm handling it, Dad," he said to the stone likeness of his father. "I'm not trying to escape all the time, just… every Sunday. Six months in and the village still stands. I keep flubbing the words at marriage ceremonies, though. Haven't got them memorized yet. I'm thinking of adding a knock-knock joke or two. Weddings are always so serious."

Did he actually expect the statue to laugh at his snark? Maybe he did. As worn out as he felt right now, he half-expected some grandiose words of wisdom from his dad's memorial. A voice from the grave, telling him that he was doing just fine or he was screwing up royally. Considering all the other impossible things he'd dealt with over the last five years, a visitation from the ghost of his dad wouldn't have been that crazy. But the statue only stood there unflinchingly, a reminder of a life lived and a life no longer.

This was a good thing, wasn't it? No ghost-dad showing up? It had to mean his dad was at peace. Maybe he'd found Hiccup's mother in Valhalla and they were living happily ever hereafter. One could hope, right?

"I miss you, Dad," he said softly, even though no one was around to eavesdrop. "Every day I manage to find a way to think about you. I even feel angry sometimes. I feel like there was something we could have done, a dragon with special saliva we could have found, or maybe a Hyperion I could've contacted. If we'd just tried harder…"

He stopped himself, feeling like the statue had managed to interrupt him on his father's behalf. "I know what'd you'd be saying right now. 'Someday, you're going to lose someone you care about, and it's going to hurt. A lot.' I just didn't think it was going to apply to you. I thought you'd outlive me. Dumb, right?"

Toothless came up to Hiccup's side and nuzzled his hand, Hiccup patting his devoted friend. The dragon's affection reminded him that he did have a home to go to, a far warmer place than this cold hall of statues.

"I'm trying, Dad," he said, backing up toward the main doors. "I'm not giving up on this chief thing. Just know that."


	3. What Business Partners Do

**Chapter Two: What Business Partners Do**

They could've easily flown back home from the Great Hall, but Hiccup and Toothless had exhausted their love of flying for the day. Besides, it gave Hiccup a chance to inspect the village, see if any problems had sprouted up while he was gone. He was pleased to see that nothing was on fire that shouldn't be on fire – the village had suffered his absence in peace. Now if he could just get back home…

Yet another unwary traveler almost plowed headlong into Hiccup, coming from between a pair of homes and looking more over his shoulder than in front of him. This traveler Hiccup recognized immediately, much to his regret.

"Oh, it's you, fearless leader," said Snotlout, doing little to hide his irritation. "Finally getting home after doing… whatever you do."

"And I see you're wandering around tonight for some reason," replied Hiccup. "Anything I need to know?"

"No, just out for the night air," said Snotlout. "Trying to relax after a hard day of patrolling the skies above Berk. You know, that thing you don't do anymore."

Hiccup had come to realize that as much as things could change rapidly and dramatically, there really were some things in life that refused to ever change, his relationship with Snotlout being a prime example. Even Hiccup becoming chief hadn't convinced the obnoxious Viking to grant Hiccup much respect. Hiccup assumed it had to do with Astrid, considering how pleased Snotlout had been to find out Astrid was still alive after the War of the Alchemist, and how angry he'd been to find out the Hiccup and Astrid had also gotten married. He was the only sour face in the crowd during their "official" wedding in Berk, and for a time Hiccup thought Snotlout might decide to leave Berk altogether, take his Monstrous Nightmare and seek his fortune elsewhere. But Snotlout eventually settled back into his old role as the perpetual, though mostly tolerable, thorn in Hiccup's side.

"Right," said Hiccup. "Well, don't let me get in your way then." He and Toothless went around Snotlout and made a beeline for home, hoping that Snotlout was the worst thing that happened tonight. Hiccup swore he heard Snotlout say something under his breath, and it sounded a lot like y_ou've always been in my way_, but Hiccup was too tired to bother following up on it. Besides, that would mean staying in Snotlout's company longer.

Home was right around the corner, the same cottage that Hiccup had lived in since infancy and which now belonged to him and Astrid. Post-wedding, Hiccup and Astrid had stayed in a vacant cabin whose condition danced on the line between _fixer-upper _and _condemnable_. But it was either that or live with their parents. They managed to get the house shipshape again over time, but when Stoick passed away his home automatically went to Hiccup, and Hiccup found he couldn't part with it. So they moved back in and gave their old home to the Twins… who promptly made the house condemnable again.

Right now, the old cabin looked right pleasing… or would have if there had been signs of habitation. No light coming from the windows, though, and no smoke curling out of the chimney. He was sure Astrid was supposed to be home tonight, no long patrols or missions outside Berk. Maybe she was at a friend's home and had lost track of time.

There was a squawk from the nearby dragon-house, the distinctive call of a friendly Nadder. Beatrix was resting at ease, alerted by Hiccup and Toothless's approach. Hiccup came over and gave her a quick pat, noticing that her saddle was off. Astrid had obviously come home and parked Beatrix for the night, but where was she now? She never left Beatrix by herself. Toothless didn't seem too concerned about the matter, which meant his sensitive ears hadn't pick up on any signs of trouble. But the absence of trouble didn't mean something wasn't wrong, and Hiccup found his anxiety rising.

"Toothless, stay here and keep an eye out for Astrid," Hiccup ordered, moving to the back of the cabin. "I'll check things out."

Toothless obediently sat by the front door and watched the village for any signs of Astrid as Hiccup went around back. The outhouse and Hiccup's half-completed workshop stood upright and undamaged, and remained unoccupied. Hiccup occasionally worried that Astrid might run afoul of one of his unfinished contraptions and he'd find her unconscious body next to a broken device that had chosen to explode for no good reason. So this most recent iteration of his private workshop was safely away from the cabin, and if he ever found the time and sanity he'd finish building it.

Satisfied that Astrid wasn't lying injured in the backyard, Hiccup went to the backdoor, unlocked it, and peeked his head in. Only silence and shadow abided within. The main room was chiller than the outside air, meaning that no fire had been lit for some time. In fact, it didn't look any different than how it looked this morning, after he and Astrid had said their goodbyes and went off to their respective days. Keeping the door ajar so that Toothless might hear his girly screams if anything happened, Hiccup crept in and looked about the furniture for any notes or clues concerning Astrid's whereabouts.

A cursory inspection suggested nothing nefarious, no additions or subtractions to the homestead. The main room, once his dad's domain, now belonged to Hiccup and Astrid, with Toothless getting the upstairs as his own private roost. It was not likely to remain Toothless's roost once children entered the picture, but then Toothless was okay with sharing the downstairs or even going back to living in a dragon house, so Hiccup didn't think it an issue. The far wall still had all the important mementos hung up near the joint clothes closet – Hiccup and Stoick's matching "breast plate" helmets, Hiccup's old myssteel riding armor, and Astrid's myssteel axe. Artifacts with their own special meaning, but fairly useless in this unprecedented period of peace and prosperity. Hiccup had tried incorporating his old myssteel armor into his wing suit design, but the metal interfered with all the springs. Now it was just ornamentation that he hoped he never had to wear again.

He was about to head upstairs when he spotted a piece of parchment clinging to the folding bed near the fireplace. _That _he didn't remember seeing this morning. He went over and picked it up, trying to make out the runes in the poor light.

The paper had only six words on it: _you should always check the closet._

Given another couple of seconds to mull over the words, Hiccup might have reacted properly to the warning. But he only had one second before the closet door opened behind him, and by then he was too busy to worry about much else.

He heard the creak of the hinges right before the black-clad attacker was upon him, and he managed to turn around in time to meet the assailant head on, for all the good it did him. Hiccup noticed the assailant was wearing a black sack with eyeholes right before the attacker literally jumped on him and wrapped his legs around Hiccup's waist. The attacker's weight and momentum was too much for Hiccup's still-feeble muscles and he yelped in surprise as he fell backwards onto the floor, groaning as his back smacked the uncompromising stone. The attacker then pinned his shoulders to the ground with both hands and proceeded to just sit there and stare at him, as if waiting for Hiccup to try something.

The initial alarm Hiccup had felt at being ambushed quickly faded as the seconds went by. Despite his assailant's attempt at being clandestine, there were more ways to recognize someone than just seeing their face. He didn't struggle at all, choosing to adopt a casual smile and say, "So, now that I'm your prisoner, what do we do next?"

The assailant demonstrated the next phase of her plan by removing her left hand from Hiccup's shoulder, uncovering the bag-mask enough to reveal her mouth, and then bending over to kiss Hiccup nice and warmly on the lips. This went on for a few lovely seconds, and when she finally sat back up Hiccup smiled and said, "Wow, you're a much better kisser than Astrid."

Realizing the prank was up, the assailant swatted Hiccup once playfully and removed her bag-mask entirely. Astrid's beaming smile was a great replacement, though she seemed a bit disappointed at the outcome of her prank.

"Really? Didn't fool you at all?" she said.

"Most assassins don't leave notes out saying where to look for an ambush," said Hiccup. "It makes their job harder."

"I'll remember that for next time," she said. "In the meantime, since I did successfully ambush you, that makes you my prisoner. And you did ask me what I should do with you."

She leaned in again and their lips resumed where they left off, and Hiccup soon found that being a prisoner wasn't always such a terrible thing.

* * *

><p>Snotlout continued his nocturnal wandering a bit more nervously than before, heading for the outskirts of the village while marveling at what could only be called a remarkable convergence of good and bad fortune – bad that he ran into Hiccup, the worst possible person to run into, and good that Hiccup's mind was elsewhere and that he didn't bother asking any questions. Maybe the gods were teasing him about his true intentions, warning him with a moment of near-discovery.<p>

But surely there was no real harm here. He wasn't doing anything bad to the tribe. He was just fulfilling a request. So what if it called for a meeting after sundown just outside of the village, and that he wasn't suppose to tell anyone about it, not even his dragon? That didn't _automatically _make this a bad idea.

The meeting spot was a tad creepy, nestled between a trio of dead oaks and a lot of scraggily brush. It was impossible to be seen from the village or from above. Just the perfect place to be murdered, and he was all alone. Wasn't she supposed to be here already?

"Ah… hello?" he called out to the forest, keeping his voice low. He was hoping for an answer that didn't involve losing any body parts. He wasn't afraid of much, certainly not dragons or fellow Vikings, but there was something innately freaky about being out in the forest in the middle of the night with no one knowing he was gone, so that a pack of wild boars could easily drag him off and…

"Do you have it?"

He told himself that that the high-pitched yelp and panicked jump he just did were the results of super-fast reflexes and a sore throat. Normal awesome Viking behavior in situations like these. It was also the excuse he was going to tell the woman in the dark cloak, the one who was better at sneaking up on people from behind than a Changewing. The purple-haired woman who called herself Random.

Random – what kind of name was Random for a woman? How does being "random" scare off any evil spirits?

"Do you _have_ it, Snot-boy?" Random said, more adamantly this time.

Forgetting all about excuses, Snotlout produced a scroll from his shirt, brushing it off like a gentleman would. She didn't seem to care about such things as she took the scroll and examined it. Snotlout didn't know why she bothered, considering that it was almost too dark to make out his own hands, much less do any reading. But that didn't stop her from looking at it anyway.

When she was satisfied, she slipped the scroll into the depths of her cloak and said, "The list is complete, I assume?"

"Pretty complete," said Snotlout. "I made a copy from Fishlegs's notes. I mean, dragons come and go all the time…"

"I don't expect up-to-date intelligence, Snotlout," Random interjected. "Especially since intelligence isn't exactly your strong suit. Rough numbers will do. Now, onto the next task."

Snotlout was glad it was as dark as it was, as it hid his surprise pretty well. "Next task?"

"Yes, next task." Random looked at him as if this was a no-brainer… or as if she thought _Snotlout_ was a no-brainer. "You didn't think you could become our newest business partner with just one menial task, did you?"

"Menial? Do you know how hard it was to sneak into Fishlegs's room and copy his notes? The floor of his room is completely covered in scratch parchment."

Random's face failed to show any sympathy. "I've been camping out in the sticks for four days now. There is literally nothing to do here that doesn't involve throwing stones at other things. I am bored. I do not like being bored. So if you can't follow instructions, I'm more than happy to pack up and find someone else who wants all the wealth…"

"Wait, wait, I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Snotlout reassured. "I just… I don't get why we have to be so secret about everything."

Random adopted a patient look, the kind parents give their kids when they're saying cute but really annoying things. She walked over to the boorish Viking and began whispering in his ear. "Snotlout, do you want to show up your chief?"

Snotlout felt his insecurities dropping away. Something about her voice… "You know I do."

She moved to his other ear. "Do you want to be known as the Viking who brought unbelievable wealth to his people?"

"Well, duh."

She moved away again, satisfied with the captivated look on Snotlout's face. "Then we can't do this through proper channels. As soon as your chief knows our business, he'll make all the decisions. We have to get this underway _before_ he's made aware, so that's he's forced to go along with us for the good of everybody. Remember, it's better to seek forgiveness than permission."

"You're sure Hiccup will go along with this?" Snotlout wasn't exactly a fan of Hiccup these days, but neither did he want to cross Hiccup openly. Hiccup had a lengthy track record of winning his battles.

"He'll come around… especially with you helping to convince him." From her cloak Random pulled a different scroll and handed it to Snotlout. "Tomorrow morning, Hiccup will receive a letter, the one in your hand. Pretend it came on one of your trade ships. It's an invitation for a meeting with my boss. Hiccup will have never heard of him. _No one_ will have ever heard of him. So I need you to ensure Hiccup agrees to the meeting."

"Me?" said Snotlout. "How do I do that?"

"Use the notes I included in the scroll. Sell it, Snot-boy. That's what business partners do."

"Why don't you do it? I think he might actually trust you more than me."

Random shook her head. "I have places to go and lists to deliver. Consider this the real test of your business skills. Pass, and we'll be seeing you at the meeting. Fail… and we'll be going with someone more savvy."

That was apparently the end of the discussion, as she whirled around and disappeared through the brush, mumbling something about getting the heck off this pile of rocks and dragons.

Snotlout looked down at the scroll in his hand, wondering if he was really up for this. When Random had approached him in secret four days ago, he had felt all kinds of special. A woman, an actual _woman_, had approached _him_. That was like having a Red Death dragon fly down from the sky and beg you to ride it – you didn't say no. But as always, it had nothing to do with romance, just wealth… which was certainly a fine alternative. Random had explained what she was after, and it sounded like a good idea to Snotlout. If he could pull this off, everyone in Berk would win, especially _him_.

But it meant getting on Hiccup's good side again, after several years of doing the exact opposite.

* * *

><p>Ever the conscientious dragon, Toothless had overheard the commotion in the cabin and had come to realize that Hiccup and Astrid were having some "Hiccup-Astrid time" already, one of those things humans liked to do <em>alone<em>. So after giving Hiccup and Astrid an adequate amount of "alone time," Toothless managed the front door open with practiced ease, poking his head in to make sure everyone was okay.

Naturally, they were. Hiccup and Astrid were cuddling together on the folding bed near the fireplace, Hiccup having changed out of his wing suit and Astrid having replaced her black garb with her more traditional garb. A meager fire was struggling to grow larger in the pit, but it cast enough light to outline Hiccup and Astrid's contentment, at least until Toothless's appearance had reminded Hiccup that he had left Toothless outside on guard duty the whole time.

"Oh, sorry bud," went the apology. "There's tonight's dinner upstairs."

Toothless knew the routine by now and wasn't the least put out as he spat a blue mini-fireball into the fireplace and made it a proper fire. He gave Hiccup and Astrid a nuzzle each and then quietly slipped up the stairs, where his fish and bedding awaited him.

Marriage customs in Berk hadn't changed much since dragons became part of the tribe, but the dragons themselves added a new wrinkle to the process of merging families. Dragons could get plenty attached to their humans, especially after growing up together, and when a human's attention began to shift to romance and family it didn't always make for smooth transitions with their dragon companions.

It had taken time for Hiccup, Astrid, Toothless, and Beatrix to work out the kinks in their new family dynamic, including one month where Toothless and Beatrix had a territorial dispute that almost burned down the house. But Hiccup came to realize that if you wanted to make it work, you found a way. It just took patience and a large quantity of cod.

"So I take it today's patrol was uneventful," commented Hiccup to Astrid once Toothless had disappeared.

"Same old, same old," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "Ruff and Tuff saw a bunch of wild Terrors building a nest on the far side of the island. I can't decide whether to shoo them off or let them stick around for now, but that's what passes for big decisions these days. What makes you ask?"

"Well, I figured most husbands don't get ambushed by their wives if they've had an exciting day."

Astrid laughed at that. "Well, most husbands aren't as distant as you've been lately, so that their wives don't feel the urge to ambush them."

Despite Astrid's light tone, Hiccup caught a bit of concern in Astrid's rebuttal. He didn't want to spoil the mood, but he wasn't one to ignore potential martial flare-ups while they were still at the smoldering stage.

"I haven't been gone that much, have I?" he asked.

She sat up and looked at Hiccup directly, and much to Hiccup's relief there were no signs of disgruntlement in Astrid's eyes. "I don't mean traveling distance, Hiccup. You just seem more preoccupied. And it's not hard to guess why."

"Yeah, the new DR-45 saddles have been a pain in the rear to get made, but Gobber really wants them ready before this year's Snoggletog…"

As expected, she shoved him playfully, laughing. "Seriously, Hiccup. I know you were thrown into being chief a lot earlier than any of us thought you'd be, but you've done a great job so far. Word on the street is pretty positive."

"Word on the street? I didn't know we _had_ streets." It was a phrase that Astrid had picked up during their time in Riki Poka. Didn't work so well in Berk.

Astrid didn't miss a beat. "True, but you're chief now. You could fix that someday."

Hiccup found it hard not to smile. Astrid had that effect on him. Three years of marriage had come and gone in a blink of an eye, yet he felt as much love for Astrid as before their marriage in Riki Poka. Their lives were busy, often insanely so, what with Hiccup's leadership, dragon training, and smithing duties and Astrid firmly in charge of the Dragon Squad and Berk's defenses, and it made their family time more scattered and infrequent (there were complaints from Astrid's parents about why they didn't have kids already). But the time they could free up for each other was enough, and more than that, Astrid was one of two people that kept him sane and strong when the world went insane on him. Toothless got the rest of the credit.

"So what is the actual word on the… dirt paths?" he said.

"Oh, this and that," said Astrid. "People say you're leading like your dad would, putting the village first, keeping us safely out of the affairs of others. I know a lot of people were worried you might run off to fight in some foreign land, or get us in trouble with another clan, or attract a super-powerful monster to our island or…"

"So they were worried that I would be _me_," he summed up, a frown finally slipping onto his face.

Astrid realized just then how she was sounding, and tried to rectify it. "No, I mean they _were_ worried… not that there was anything wrong with you in the first place, just that it wasn't the same as how your dad did things…"

Hiccup put a hand up to her lips to stop the verbal hemorrhaging. "I get it, Astrid. They're happy I'm doing things like my dad. If they're happy, I'm happy."

Something about the way he said that must not have convinced her, because her expression grew uncertain. "_Are_ you happy, Hiccup? With being chief, I mean?"

Hiccup mulled the question over. Happy? Not really. He apparently was making it work to people's satisfaction, but only because he was doing things like he thought his dad would. Imitating a true leader instead of allowing his Hiccup-centric ways to come forth. Still, if it was working…

"I'm getting there," he finally stated. Not exactly a lie, not exactly the truth.

Unconvinced that Hiccup was as okay with things as he acted, Astrid gave him a warm, reassuring hug. "This isn't something you have to tackle by yourself, Hiccup. You can tell me anything, and we'll figure it out together."

Hiccup hugged her right back, and for a moment he thought about disclosing his substantial uneasiness, but he stopped himself before the words could escape his lips. Telling her wouldn't really change anything. The village needed him doing what he was doing, and if people found out that their new leader was less than eager to do his job, it would only serve to cause dissention and strife.

"If I need to, I will," he said. "But right now, let's leave the important stuff until tomorrow."

"I like that idea," she replied. She relaxed against him and into the folding bed, which was another recent success in Hiccup-inspired engineering, combining the comfort of a bed with the utility of a two-person chair. It was slow to catch on with the rest of the village, though. "I forgot to ask how your day went with Toothless."

"Oh, that," he said. "Pirate ship. Same old, same old."

He almost added the story about the supposed dragon attack on Goose Duck, but again he stopped himself. For the good of Berk, he had to stop poking his nose into non-Berk matters. It pained him to do so, to turn a blind eye to the problems of others, but his dad had a saying for these occasions: _a chief protects his own_.

So he would, and so the matter was dropped.


	4. Hey, What's The Deal?

**Chapter Three: Hey, What's the Deal?**

Berk's blacksmith shop had been a focal point for the village for as long as Vikings had existed on Berk. During the Dragon War years, it had been downright crucial for the village's survival, since it's hard to fend off and/or kill dragons without proper axes and swords. It was too bad that blacksmiths never got statues erected in their honor despite their contributions to the clan, unless they somehow killed a dragon with an anvil, but most village blacksmiths learned to do their under-appreciated job with quiet dignity. It helped that most smiths had been warriors in their youth and could happily do their job having already done their duty against those blasted flying devils.

That was a different time and a different Berk, and yet the blacksmith shop still remained the glue that held the village's fortunes together. Only now, most of those old axes and swords had been beaten into bindings for saddles and harnesses, with Gobber doing most of the beating. The shop had grown as well, with several expansions built to accommodate the increased business and duties that came with outfitting dragon riders. Gobber had adapted pretty well to the new Berk, eventually figuring out how craft a decent saddle while practicing part-time dragon-dentistry on the side (a profession that made even the most ardent dragon-lover nervous, but as Gobber liked to put it, "It's not like they can bite off much more of me.")

Ever the cheerful sport about life's little changes, and demonstrating his affection for his apprentice, Gobber had bequeathed a third of his shop to Hiccup as a wedding present. Overwhelmed by Gobber's gesture, Hiccup had opted to continue working with Gobber, though now as a partner instead of an apprentice. Even as chief, Hiccup put in long hours in the shop, mostly in designing riding gear for different dragon species, since a saddle for a Nightmare wasn't compatible with a Gronckle.

The sky had practically no light to it this morning, and Hiccup felt like he could easily have gotten in another hour or two of sleep, or have cuddled with Astrid a bit longer. Walking down to his part of the shop felt like part of a really boring dream, and it was only the continued presence of Toothless that convinced him he was actually awake, the dragon nudging him periodically, hoping to change Hiccup's mind concerning the order of the morning's activities.

"We can't today, bud," Hiccup told his stubborn dragon. "Remember how we were late yesterday? I have 'official' stuff to look at. We'll have to get our flying in later." He didn't have to see Toothless's face to feel the disappointment radiating off the dragon. Their morning rides were getting fewer and fewer with each passing week.

Much like the state of his mind, Hiccup's part of the shop had become a tad messy in recent weeks, and Hiccup had to step over a few of his projects-in-progress as he entered the shop to open it up for business. The biggest casualty was his drafting desk, which was buried under a pile of letters, notes, and correspondence. A result of his partially-successful attempt to keep people from pestering him day and night about every little problem in Berk – having them leave a note on his desk. It was a tactic he had picked up from the Lords in Riki Poka, who didn't do anything unless it came to them in written form first. There was a word for it – bureaucracy. Well, it did significantly reduce the number of drop-ins, and there was no longer a crowd lining up to talk to him every morning, but his beloved desk had morphed from a haven of creativity and personal space into a constant groan.

Toothless went to his corner of the shop to pout for a time while Hiccup headed to his desk and shifted through the latest pile of requests/demands/future headaches. Nothing earthshaking, thank Odin. Stormknuckle was having another tiff with his brother over who got to keep the family heirloom, an old broom adorned with dragon scales. Two naming ceremonies for two newborn additions to the tribe. A request to add yaks to the official dragon-racing rules. A grocery list that someone must have accidentally left behind…

"Hard at work already, I see," came a pleasant but unexpected voice from the exterior doorway. Hiccup looked up to see Astrid quietly walking inside, moving over to Hiccup's spot and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You were out the door so early that I didn't have a chance to wish you a good day."

"I had to get started early," replied Hiccup. "It all builds up after my day off." He gave her a scrutinizing look. "Shouldn't you be at Snotlout's, waking him up with a water bucket through the window?"

"I'll get there, but there's actually something I want to fly by you first."

Hiccup smirked and pointed to a pile of blank parchment. "All requests go on paper." After he got the required dirty look, he added, "All right, I'll waive it this time, but if people start shouting nepotism, I'm blaming you."

Astrid's smile returned, but it wasn't a wide one. Whatever she had to say was actually serious. "I'd like permission to take the squad over to Outcast Island."

That was not an expected request, and Hiccup's guts were unhappy about it. "Uh… Outcast Island, as in the home of Berk's longtime enemy, Alvin? _That_ Outcast Island?"

"There's only one, and we haven't heard anything from the Outcasts since that dustup between Alvin and Nestor three years ago."

"I consider that a good thing," said Hiccup. "And usually _I'm_ the one getting the lecture about not poking my nose into stuff."

"Remember that pirate ship you convinced to leave… and all the other ones before that? It got me thinking about why Alvin has been so quiet. Why aren't the Outcasts attacking trade ships? Why isn't Alvin launching some new scheme against us? He's not one to just give up."

Hiccup had to admit that Alvin's lack of aggression these last few years roused curiosity within him, but after dealing with such massive threats as Cervantes and the Alchemist, he really didn't want to stir up a Terror's nest by investigating Alvin. Maybe the bellicose ex-patriot of Berk was done with acts of aggression and had picked up needlework instead. Then again, maybe yaks could breathe fire.

Astrid saw the skepticism on Hiccup's face. "It'd be a high-altitude scouting mission, outside their weapons range. We'd fly by long enough to see how things looked, then head home. We won't go anywhere near the ground."

"That's what we say every time we go anywhere near Outcast Island," said Hiccup. "Something _always_ happens."

"I've handled far worse in the past," reassured Astrid. "We won't even be gone a day."

"I trust you, Astrid, really, but I'm still not…"

"Hey, what's the deal?" came a new voice through the doorway. In popped Ruffnut and Tuffnut, Ruffnut looking quite impatient and Tuffnut looking quite bored.

"Astrid, you're supposed to meet me for sparring practice," said Ruffnut. "I got my spear all sharpened up and everything."

Hiccup gave his wife a funny look. "Sparring practice? With Ruffnut?"

"She's… not bad," said Astrid.

"She beats Sis up every time," said Tuffnut, a tad too gleefully. "I get to watch."

"No pain, no gain," said Ruffnut, unruffled. "I get good enough and someday I might even be able to say I'm a Champion without somebody laughing."

Hiccup now understood Ruffnut's motivation. Not much had really changed for the Twins since their adventures with Hiccup and Astrid, and while Tuffnut seemed okay with it, his sister was still determined to have the village's attitude toward them change to something above contempt. None of the notoriety that should've come with being on a team that had essentially saved the world had stuck to them, mostly because no one in Berk believed they could've pulled it off. You could only tip over so many yaks before it was all anyone thought of you. Ruffnut had also been a bit more moody since she received a letter from her now-ex-boyfriend, Clueless, that had started with the ignominious phrase _You're a nice girl, but… _She probably needed the distraction.

Hiccup still remained perplexed when it came to Astrid's side of it. "I get what Ruffnut sees in it, but…"

"I miss it, okay?" said Astrid. "I miss having someone to fight with. You're too busy and no one else wants to fight me."

Tuffnut then gave Hiccup and Astrid a funny look. "Wait, is Astrid breaking the write-down-your-request rule? Because if she is, I have a…"

"No, no, she's not," said Hiccup hurriedly. "She's here to… uh…"

"Hey, what's the deal?" came yet another new voice. This one belonged to Fishlegs, coming through the door with a large tome in his hands. "No one told me we were having a meeting this morning."

"It's not a meeting," said Hiccup. "I was just trying to get a jump on my work and…"

"Astrid's trying to break the write-down-your-request rule," said Ruffnut.

"What?" said Fishlegs, flabbergasted. "She can't do that. It would lead to anarchy. And Hiccup still hasn't gotten back to me on my revisions to the Dragon Manual."

Fishlegs had been doing plenty to revise Berk's ever-expanding library of dragon lore, along with developing his own brand of Dragon Cards, portable pieces of parchment that could help people identify different dragons on the spot instead of having to memorize the entire manual. His idea to turn Dragon Cards into some kind of game was still in development. Hiccup had play-tested Fishlegs's game and found the rules unnecessary complicated, as well as giving some dragons too many advantages. Honestly, a game where a Night Fury could be taken down by a single Terrible Terror with one lucky card play just didn't seem right.

"Still working on that, Legs," said Hiccup. "And no one's breaking the rule. Astrid is…"

"Hey, what's the deal?" came an unpleasant (but at this point rather expected) voice. In came Snotlout, smelling a bit more odiferous than usual.

"What happened to my wake-up call?" he complained. "I had to get myself out of bed, and I'm completely dry."

"There's a joke here," said Tuffnut. "I just know it."

"Astrid's trying to break the write-down-your-request rule," said Fishlegs.

Snotlout crossed his arms and scowled. "Well, that figures. Sure, make the rest of us follow the rules, but as soon as the wife comes in and shows you her…"

"Finish that sentence and you'll be on stable duty for a month," said Astrid, her own scowl easily outclassing Snotlout's. The loutish Viking thought better of it and clammed up.

Toothless watched all this from his corner spot with what passed for dragon amusement. He even flashed a look at Hiccup that pretty much read _See, you wouldn't have to be putting up with this if you had taken to the air with me._

"Guys, no one is breaking the write-down-your-request rule," insisted Hiccup. "All that happened was…"

"Hey, what's the deal?" And now it was Gobber's turn, coming from the opposite side of the workshop, carrying a small leather bag on his hook-arm and a disapproving expression on his face. "I come to open the shop and I find a bunch of twenty-year-olds hanging around like they have nothing better to do." He glanced around the shop. "I don't see any kegs…"

"This wasn't planned, Gobber," said Hiccup. "One thing just led to another and…"

"This is why you can't break the write-down-your-request rule," said Fishlegs. "It only leads to tears."

Gobber looked downright shocked. "Was somebody breaking the write-down-your-request rule?" He faced Hiccup directly. "Lad, you can't bend the rules for anybody."

"Unless you're his wife," snarked Snotlout.

"Okay, that's it," said Astrid. "I'm not breaking any rules. All I came here to do was this." Before Hiccup could react, she reached over and grabbed Hiccup's shirt, dragging him in close and planting a big fat kiss on his lips. This elicited a groan from Snotlout and a few snickers from the rest, with Gobber shaking his head and muttering something about married people. Thankful to get in one good kiss and stave off a minor revolt, Hiccup decided right then to grant Astrid his permission. If she was _this_ quick a thinker for situations like these, Outcast Island would be a breeze.

The moment that Hiccup and Astrid were done, Hiccup soon found Gobber's leather bag in his hands. "If you two are done, you can do me a favor and go through today's overseas mail, see if any of it belongs to you. It came in with today's trade ship."

Thankful for another distraction, Hiccup reached into the bag and pulled out its contents. It wasn't much – a few scrolls from chieftain leaders announcing this or requesting an audience for that. But when he read the address on the second-to-last scroll, he felt a sudden jolt of excitement, a pang of nostalgia.

Seeing the look on his face, Astrid said, "Who's that last one from?"

Feeling mischievous, Hiccup put on his bluffing face and shrugged. "Oh, nobody you'd actually know…"

"Hiccuuup?" she insisting, sensing the tease for what it was.

"You may have heard of it – Riki Poka."

Astrid yelped in delight and grabbed for the scroll. Knowing better than to get in her way, Hiccup gave it up without a fight, Astrid eagerly tearing off the binding and unrolling the scroll.

After a few seconds of Astrid reading the scroll silently to herself and ignoring the expectant eyes around her, Ruffnut piped up on the audience's behalf. "You know, some of us would like to know what's going on, too."

"She's right, you know," said Hiccup. Astrid eyeballed Hiccup as if debating whether or not to keep hogging the letter, but then she straightened up and started reading aloud from the beginning:

_Dear Sister, _

_Greetings and fond wishes from Riki Poka. The city still stands as always, and while its troubles are varied and numerous, we work to resolve them as we always have. Nothing on the level of the Alchemist, thank the Gods, but sometimes even small issues can carry much grave concern. _

"Tell me about it," said Hiccup, eliciting a shush from Astrid before she continued.

_To begin, please give our deepest sympathies to your husband over the loss of his father. We are sorry that we could not come to you, but the raids by the Canticore Collective have been frequent enough that we cannot afford to take off the two-months time we would need for the trip. This disappoints me to no end, but hopefully when Admiral Canticore finally sees the folly of his pursuits we will have the time to visit Berk._

_We are also pleased to hear of Hiccup's ascension to the role of chief. None of us were surprised. It was not a fate you needed a vision to foretell._

_We are all in good health. Archibald has been delving into public relations and politics, much to his dismay. He is well suited for the task, but I suspect he would rather be destroying Guardians than greeting heads-of-state. _

_Nestor remains true to his duty as a Champion, and to the two of us, though I suspect he is frustrated that he has not the time to properly learn the written Norse language so that he can write his own letters to Hiccup. Time also keeps us from furthering our own relationship, but we are both content with what we have, at least for now. _

_Qiao… I have not killed her._

_ Heather has yet to see her family since the War of the Alchemist, but she steadfastly refuses to leave until things have calmed down once more. I suspect that her growing affection for Captain Linebreaker might have a role as well. The two of them are otherwise in good spirits, both at the Dancing Clam and with their ocean voyages. And no, they have not named Ship as yet._

_Proto remains at Nestor's side, always helping, always learning._

_On a personal note… I must confess to a growing uneasiness about… something. But no head-splitting visions have materialized to grant me clarity. Perhaps I have spent too much time away from my role as the Seer and my edginess is a byproduct of living in the present, as opposed to constantly worrying about the future. If any visions pertinent to you and yours come my way, you will hear from me._

_I miss you, Sister, and it saddens me that three years have passed without seeing you once more. Nestor assures me that we are owed time for our endeavors, but conflicts do not abide by the rules of fairness. Only time will tell when we can free ourselves long enough to see you._

_May the Fates always favor you, and the Gods grant you happiness._

_Saga, Nestor, and the rest of us._

"The date is around two months ago," said Astrid as she wrapped up the reading, wearing a wistful look like the ones that she typically had after one of Saga's letters. Hiccup always felt profoundly relieved afterwards, glad that Nestor and everyone else was alive and okay despite the line of work they were in. But Astrid was always hoping that they'd finally make it back up to Berk for a visit. She constantly sent them invitations in her return letters, only to have Saga state one reason or another why they couldn't. Astrid had really bonded with Saga during those several crazy months together, and three years was a long time to keep good friends apart.

"She sounds happy," said Hiccup, the only comforting thing he could think of saying that didn't sound too hollow.

"Why wouldn't she?" commented Tuffnut. "They're having more excitement than we are these days."

"Too bad they can't come up and visit," said Fishlegs.

"Why?" said Snotlout, the only one of the group who was never pleased to hear about Hiccup's friends from the south. "You barely did anything with them."

"I never got to interview Arc or get his measurements," explained Fishlegs. "There's a big hole in the Dragon Manuel where it says Green Lightning."

"Personally, Hiccup," said Gobber, "understand that I don't mean any offense by this, but I hope your friends keep their visits few and far between. Where they go, things tend to explode."

"But we _like_ that part," said Ruffnut.

"I get what you mean, Gobber," said Hiccup. "But they are the best folks to have around when things explode." And he did miss having Nestor around, almost as much as Astrid missed Saga, but he remained happy knowing that Nestor had found his place in the world.

Ignoring Ruffnut's comment, Gobber started unscrewing his hook-arm and began replacing it with a set of steel pliers. "Now, if it's all the same to you folks, I have a dozen DR-45s to finish, Hiccup has chiefly things to do, and I can't have you all yakking away in my shop all morning."

"Will you put more padding on this batch of saddles?" asked Fishlegs. "Chomps has a sensitive back and…"

"I'll give _you_ a sensitive back if you don't leave," threatened Gobber, though there was little harshness in his tone.

The others filed out of the shop, with only Astrid lingering to hand over the letter to Hiccup. She still had a slight forlorn look to her, like a dragon hatchling that just had its favorite chew toy yanked out from between its jaws. "You know, Astrid, maybe when I have this chief thing squared away and I can trust the village not to burn up in my absence, the two of us can take our dragons on an extended vacation to Riki Poka."

"I don't know if we'll ever have the time again, Hiccup," she replied, shaking her head at the idea. "It's sweet of you to offer, though."

"Well, then… yes," he said, keeping his voice low and not elaborating any further. Astrid didn't understand at first, but once Hiccup nodded his head toward the door and her Dragon Squad, she got the message. It perked her right up. She gave him a final peck on the cheek and headed off to catch up with the rest of the gang.

Unable to come up with any more excuses not to, Hiccup faced his desk once more, instinctively groaning. The papers hadn't magically disappeared or sorted themselves while his back was turned. Astrid and his friends had proven a wonderful diversion, but only a temporary one.

"Hard, isn't it?" said Gobber, coming up to Hiccup's side and looking at Hiccup's desk, a smidgen of sympathy in his tone. "It's tricky figuring out how to switch from one role in life to another, knowing what to put in the past and what to keep. Sometimes I think your dad looked forward to dragon attacks just so he could relive his youth… that, and maybe a few other reasons."

"So you're saying that my best days are behind me?" said Hiccup.

"Well, maybe the days when you could fly off into the sunset without any cares," said Gobber. He gestured to his pliers-arm, then to his shop. "My younger years involved me losing a couple of important body parts… which you can relate to. After that, I couldn't exactly keep up with everyone else. But then I got this great shop, learned to be the best smith in all the North Sea, and I've had plenty of 'best days' since then."

Gobber was not one to frequently give successfully uplifting words of wisdom, but occasionally he got it right. He wasn't an advisor or a commander, and he didn't want to be. He was merely Stoick's best friend; someone who understood Stoick and who understood Hiccup, and his counsel was always welcome.

A blast of flame from the other side of the store broke apart the quiet moment. Gobber let out a groan of his own. "Thor's Hammer! Grump, I'll be right there. Most impatient dragon ever. He and my grandma have that much in common."

Hiccup snickered quietly as Gobber went off to argue with his dragon, an old Hotburple that was content to sit around the shop and supply fuel for the furnaces. Gobber had been slow to acquire his own dragon, but after watching Toothless aid Hiccup in his smithing projects he finally admitted that there were perks to sharing a home with a fire-breathing reptile.

Alone at last… with his pile of correspondence. Hiccup let out yet another groan. This whole write-down-your-request rule was starting to feel like a massive error…

"Hiccup? You still in?" Snotlout, of all people, had returned to the shop doorway, and Hiccup didn't know whether to be relieved for getting a new diversion or irritated because… well, Snotlout. He went with irritable relief.

"I found a letter outside the shop," explained Snotlout, holding said letter in his grimy hands. "I think it fell out of the mail bag. It's addressed to the Chief of Berk."

"So's everything these days," said Hiccup, taking the scroll and unrolling it. He expected another invitation to another clan's wedding. What he got was… intriguing.

"This is… interesting," he said absently. "This isn't from another tribe. I…" He looked up and realized that Snotlout was lingering. In fact, he seemed almost curious, either about the contents of the letter or about Hiccup's reaction.

"Something else I can do for you, Snotlout?" he asked.

"Oh, me? Nah, just hanging. Can't really do anything until Astrid finishes beating up Ruffnut… oh, sorry, _sparring_."

"And you want to hang here? With me?"

Even Snotlout realized this was out of character for him. "Well, it's possible I might, somehow, in some crazy way, become chief someday. I wanted to see how you did things."

Hiccup considered this exceedingly unlikely. "Okay, what did you do?"

Snotlout was shocked at the question. "What? Why do you assume that…?" He trailed off when Hiccup gave him a dirty look. He had to sell this, or else he could kiss his path to future fame and fortune goodbye. "Okay, really, I just think we should try to be on friendlier terms."

Hiccup's dirty look went skeptical. "Three years of barely saying a civil word to me, and now you want us to be friends again?"

"Well, _friendlier_. Let's not push it."

"What brought this on?"

Snotlout shrugged. "I woke up and realized that things are as they are. You're Chief, Astrid is unavailable, and I'm still living in my parent's cellar. I mean, the _Twins _have more respect than I do around here. So I can either keep flying against the wind or I can glide along with it."

"You sound almost… rational," said Hiccup, not exactly buying what Snotlout was selling, but willing to see where this went. "If you really want to help, you can find out who Marcus Kepler is." Hiccup held up the letter. "He wants to meet with me tomorrow about a business proposition. There's a map to a small local island, Cheek Bite. Nothing there but crabs and crabgrass."

"Marcus Kepler?" Snotlout paused for effect while trying to look pensive. "I think I might know of him."

"What?" Hiccup's disbelief was unmistakable.

"Seriously, I think I know the name."

"How? You've never been more than a day away from Berk."

"Hey, I hear things. Traders like to talk. Someone named Marcus set up shop… eighteen months ago, on an island somewhere to the… southeast. He's supposed to be a tinkerer, like you, only he trades his stuff."

Hiccup noticed Snotlout's eyes glancing towards his crossed arms during the obvious pauses in his speech. He was focusing on his left hand for some reason.

"Something wrong with your hand?" Hiccup asked.

A brief look of guilt, or perhaps fear, crossed Snotlout's face, but it was gone in a flash. Snotlout proceeded to casually wipe his left hand on his shirt and then showed his open palm to Hiccup. A nasty ash-based black smudge was apparent. Such stains were common amongst Vikings who choose self-igniters like Nightmares as their dragons.

"I didn't wash today, remember?" Snotlout said.

Hiccup shook his head. He really shouldn't have been surprised. Still, something about Snotlout's behavior wasn't settling with him. Might be the fact that Snotlout was never helpful unless he was getting something out of it.

"Any idea what Marcus sells?" he asked.

"I don't know… Stuff."

"So why would I do business with him? We don't even _have _any business."

"Maybe it's time we did. We could be like that big city you saved, Richie Poopoo."

"_Riki Poka_, and we're too far north to become a trade city… and way too small."

"I'm just saying that there can't be any harm in meeting with this guy, could there?"

"There could be," said Hiccup. He glanced at the letter, his curiosity itching at him. He had told himself to keep clear of outside matters for now, but this was an invitation delivered right to his doorstep. He honestly didn't know what Berk had to offer other than dragons, and their dragons would never be for sale. It'd be like selling family. Still, maybe it bore checking out, if only to make sure that this Kepler character wasn't up to any shenanigans that might endanger Berk.

"The letter says I can bring as many warriors and dragons as I want," mused Hiccup, "and if we want to meet, we just show up by noon tomorrow." He mused silently for a few more seconds. "You know, I think we'll take a look at this. I'll talk to Astrid about it after you guys get back."

"I'm sure she'll be fine with it," said Snotlout, feeling rather pleased with himself and doing his best not to show it. Then he caught onto something Hiccup had said. "Wait, where am I going?"

Hiccup gave him a knowing half-smile. "You'll find out soon enough."

Okay, that was an ominous thing to say, but Snotlout honestly didn't care. After excusing himself from Hiccup's shop, Snotlout had to walk a good distance away before allowing himself a victory dance and a whoop or two. He really was business partner material. True, he had to remind himself of a few details by writing notes on his left hand, but at least he'd been smart enough to do it with easily smudged ashes. Fame and fortune couldn't be far away for a guy as savvy as him.

Hiccup, on the other hand, could only look at his desk and groan for a fourth time. He was all out of distractions, and still full of chiefly things to do. He glanced Toothless's way and gave his resting companion a sheepish grin. "Gee, it'd be a shame if you accidentally fired off a plasma bolt and roasted my desk and all the work on it."

Toothless snorted once and went back to napping.

Hiccup sighed in defeat. "Didn't think you'd go for that."


	5. Nothing Is Scarier

**Chapter Four: Nothing Is Scarier**

Astrid and her Dragon Squad had a clear path straight to Outcast Island as they soared through the sky, with only a thin carpet of clouds spanning the air around them. No anvil-heads or funnel clouds to make the trip more difficult. It would've been smarter to approach Outcast Island at night or with cloudier conditions, as it added some protection against the island's coastal defenses, but this was only supposed to be a recon mission, and catapults could only shoot so high.

"I still think this is a bad idea," said Snotlout, flying Fenrir off Astrid's left wing and acting as the voice of discontent, as usual.

"What a shock," she replied.

"Seriously, why does it matter that Alvin has been leaving us alone?" he continued. "Let's be glad he's doing it."

"A sleeping dragon is still a dragon," offered Fishlegs, flying Chomps off Astrid's right. "My parents told me that one all the time."

"Meaning?" asked Snotlout.

"Alvin is still a threat to Berk," clarified Astrid. "Somebody has to keep an eye on him."

"Yeah, but why does it always have to be us?" complained Tuffnut, him and his sister riding Barf/Belch just behind Astrid. "Whenever we go near Outcast Island, _something _always happens."

"You guys worry too much," said Astrid. "We've beaten Alvin every single time, and all we're doing is checking up on him. This'll be easy."

"Famous last words," muttered Snotlout. Normally he was willing to go along with whatever Astrid ordered the squad to do, albeit with a little attitude thrown in to maintain his reputation, but he really didn't want to get horribly maimed or killed right before his fame-and-fortune boat sailed in. Why the sudden rush to check on Alvin, and why couldn't it have waited a few more days?

Astrid wasn't about to admit it in front of her friends, especially Snotlout, but her confidence didn't match her words. Even the dragons were growing uneasy as they neared the island, Astrid feeling Beatrix's muscles tense up underneath her legs, the Nadder anticipating combat. The dragons had tangled with Alvin enough times to know better. So had Astrid. But compared to the other enemies she'd fought in the past, Alvin seemed so… lightweight. Nothing more than a bully with petty delusions of grandeur, more interested in getting back at Berk than taking over the world. But he was a very tenacious bully, and to have him stop being tenacious meant one of two things – he was either dead, or he was slow-cooking a really nasty plan.

The cloud cover thinned out ahead of the squad, allowing an unrestricted view of Outcast Island, a place most people would rather not see at all. Folks might complain of Berk's somewhat desolate nature, even though it featured thick forests and rugged hills and bountiful wildlife, but Outcast Island made Berk look like a paradise. Most of the island consisted of cold jagged rock and lifeless soil. Almost nothing grew there, certainly nothing edible. The wildlife consisted of packs of wild dragons that engaged in frequent territorial disputes with one another, scorching much of the surface in the process. The only long-term way to survive on the island was to use a series of underground caves and tunnels, some natural and some carved out by human hands. No one sane lived there on purpose. You lived there because you had no choice.

Astrid didn't know much about the island's history, and frankly she didn't really want to know more. What had started out as a hideout for Vikings who had gotten on the bad side of their tribes and clans had grown into a semi-functional community of pirates and raiders. The leadership position of such a band of misanthropes lent itself to high turnover, and it said much about Alvin that he had held onto the reins of power for so many years.

She once thought that it was a dumb that the Viking tribes in the area tolerated the Outcasts like they did, and she had asked Hiccup's dad about it. Stoick explained that the Outcasts were just too entrenched and that it would take too much blood and toil to get rid of them. Also, there were some Viking chiefs who thought it was a _good_ idea to have a place like Outcast Island. As the saying goes, it's better to leave the rats a dilapidated barn to live in than to tear it down and have them start hiding in _your_ house. She did find it interesting that Riki Poka had a place similar to Outcast Island situated not far from its shores, though it was more a trading post for illegal goods rather than a sanctuary for exiles and criminals.

So the tribes tolerated the Outcasts as long as their transgressions were more a thorn in the side than a dagger. Except that Outcasts had Alvin in charge, and after the end of the Dragon War he proceeded to send the full might of the Outcasts against Berk. The attacks became frequent enough that at one point the Berkians wanted to use their dragons to burn the Outcasts out of their caves. Even Astrid had to admit that it didn't sound like a bad idea to her. But Hiccup argued against it, fearing that it would lead Berk down a path of war and aggression. Hiccup being the respected dragon expert he was, the people listened, though there was a lot of grumbling about it.

Not long after that, the Gunnarr started getting belligerent toward Berk, and their ships began intruding into Berk's territory. Thankfully, the Gunnarr hated the Outcasts as much as anyone, and their patrols kept Alvin at bay. After the battle with Cervantes, the Gunnarr remained at peace with Berk, and they were more than happy to keep the pressure on Alvin. But the Gunnarr can't patrol everywhere, and someone as duplicitous as Alvin would've found a way past them by now.

"So how close is close?" Fishlegs hesitantly asked as they approached the island. "I can see pretty good from here."

"Everybody stick with me," she ordered. "We'll do one fly-by and see what happens. Keep you eyes peeled – I want numbers and defensive positions." No complaining this time – when Astrid broke out her "command voice," everyone knew to curtail the wise cracks. Unlike Hiccup, who had a habit of letting things slide, Astrid was perfectly happy to dole out appropriate consequences.

Things started out as Astrid had planned. She picked a flight path that took them over the central part of the island, the place where most of Alvin's defenses were concentrated. They skirted right under the clouds, in plain sight of everyone below but too high to be attacked. Seawater gave way to solid ground as they passed over the island, the misshapen landscape bringing back memories of dodging midair projectiles and frantic escapes from foul-smelling crossbow-armed foot soldiers.

She spotted the first catapult right away, positioned on a craggy hill that resembled a malformed dragon's tooth. The Outcasts had almost as many dragon problems as Berk once did, and they knew the best spots for battling airborne targets. Strange thing was, nobody was stationed at it. No Outcasts were anywhere near it.

Then she saw another catapult on another hillside. It, too, was unmanned. In fact, the catapult looked off-kilter, its launching arm untethered and unrestrained, as if abandoned and forgotten.

Three more emplacements later, Astrid started to wonder if she had found a look-alike island and that the actual Outcast Island was further north. The defenses were deployed, but not a single Outcast could be seen. Not a single warning cry, no warriors scrambling for the safety of the caves, nothing. The Outcasts _always _had guards at the ready. When you're part of the most loathed group of miscreants in the North Sea, you never left your island unguarded.

"I'm seeing a lot of weapons," said Snotlout, "but I'm not seeing any Outcasts."

"Same here," said Fishlegs. "And I don't think they've been maintaining their equipment."

"Maybe they're on a lunch break," said Ruffnut.

"Maybe it's nap time," said Tuffnut. "Astrid, if it's going to be this boring, can I take a nap, too?"

"This doesn't make any sense," said Astrid, feeling uncomfortably confused. "They're wide open to attack."

"Do you think they all up and left?" Fishlegs's tone indicated he was equally baffled.

"Let's just chalk this one up to one of life's mysteries and leave," said Snotlout, quite relieved by this development. "We did our one fly-by and…"

"Let's find out," ordered Astrid. "Everyone stick together and follow me." She then put Beatrix into a dive and headed for the ground.

Snotlout let out a resigned grunt as he steered Fenrir to follow. "I _knew _you were going to say that."

* * *

><p>There was no warmth or character to the caves, only a layer of dust and the echoes of channeled wind and furtive scurrying. Scattered bits of moldy furniture and moldier refuse littered the floors, obvious signs of neglect and abandonment. The only signs of movement came from a number of fleeing cockroaches and rats, the new owners of the settlement. No bones or remains though, nor any broken weapons or scorch marks on the cavern walls. Nothing to suggest a battle was occured.<p>

Astrid stood on the ground next to her Nadder and scrutinized her surroundings with disbelieving eyes. The inherent creepiness of the long-forsaken caves grated on her nerves. She wished she had brought her myssteel axe with her, even though Beatrix would have gladly roasted any threats for her. She kept expecting a trap, the fruits of a complex ruse designed to lure her and her friends to the island and have them willingly walk into Alvin's hands. But that was silly thinking. Alvin wouldn't have left his island wide open just on the off chance that some wayward dragon rider from Berk happened to show up.

The other riders had dismounted and were pursuing the cave for anything interesting or clues to the whereabouts of the island's previous owners. Ruff and Tuff had found something to argue about, of course, while Fishlegs proceeded to put his forensic skills to good use. Snotlout was staying out of the way, too on edge to be his usual grating self, and mostly watched the outside entrance for any danger.

Fishlegs swiped his finger on a wooden chair, collecting a sample of dust and putting it up to his eyes. "No one has lived here for a couple of years, maybe longer."

"That's pretty obvious," said Snotlout. "Any idea why?"

"They weren't forced out," said Astrid. "It looks like they left willingly."

Fishlegs took a long sniff of the air. "You guys smell that?"

"Oh, sorry," said Tuffnut. "I didn't think you'd…"

"You mean besides the mold and the dirt?" said Astrid, cutting off Tuffnut from further embarrassment. "What do you smell?"

"It's what I don't smell," said Fishlegs. "Didn't Alvin keep a bunch of dragons locked up?"

"He did," said Astrid. "He wanted to ride them like we do. Never got very far. The concept of kindness doesn't register in Alvin's brain."

"Dragons tend to rub their scent all over their homes," explained Fishlegs. "You can actually tell where a dragon nests by using your nose. But I don't smell any old scents. Alvin's dragons must have left with him."

"I haven't seen any wild dragons on the island," said Snotlout, finally catching on to the seriousness of the situation. "You think he figured out how to make friends with dragons finally?"

Astrid shook her head. "If he had, the Outcasts would have a flying army of dragons by now, and we'd be fighting them."

"Isn't this all good news?" said Ruffnut. "Alvin is gone. The Outcasts are gone. You guys are acting like this the first sign of Ragnarok. Can't we be happy about this?"

Astrid wanted to agree with Ruffnut, but none of this felt right. Outcast Island had become an uninhabited rock. It was one thing for the Outcasts to leave, but the dragons? She used to think that Hiccup worried too much about everything, fretting about the future like it was coming to eat him for dinner. But today, she was getting that exact vibe. Alvin and his bunch had packed up and left for parts unknown, and until she figured out where, she couldn't convince herself into thinking this was a good thing. The snake was out of his hole, and he could be anywhere now.

* * *

><p>Cold Fire Island is that most disturbing of all islands – the kind that would bury you if you weren't paying attention.<p>

Volcanic islands were few and far between in the seas around Berk, and all sensible Vikings kept their distance from any mountainous landmasses that belched out plumes of smoke and ash on a regular basis. That said, such islands offered haven from the intense winter cold, though that was frequently the only offer to be had. Cold Fire Island hadn't belched much in the last several centuries, choosing to let off steam instead. The island was peppered with steam vents that routinely spewed super-heated gas, raising the island's temperature to tolerable levels in certain sections, while leaving the rest of it vulnerable to the Arctic's icy embrace. Alas, there were times when those same vents let loose gas of a far more noxious nature, making a long stay on Cold Fire a risky venture.

If any wandering Vikings were to visit the island today, they'd be in for a shock. A sizeable building had been erected on the western shore, one that appeared to merge with the cliff side it was built on. Paired with a meager dock, it used the cliff as shelter from the worst of the wind and snow, the sea around the structure bubbling from a series of underwater vents. The building had a clinical feel to it, all business and no culture. But it did the job it was built for – keeping its inhabitants warm and breathing good air.

If those same wandering Vikings were to venture inside, they'd think they found the world's largest blacksmith shop. Large iron pipes rose up from the ground at various points, channeling steam and other gases throughout the building. Machines and gears whirled and spun away noisily, motivated by the power of steam. Workers manned their posts and their workbenches, sweating away in front of hot forges, hammering iron into a thousand different shapes. To the untrained eye, it was a chaotic clutter of metal and men, but the men had purpose, the metal its function.

Walking through this place of industry was a decent-looking man more suited for gentler climates and much warmer weather, his ebony skin making him intrinsically stick out from the rest of his white-skinned subordinates. Even in the hot confines of his industrial center he still felt the need to wear a thin coat. His balding scalp was more bald than not, and he had few distinguishing marks or scars, indicating a man who had escaped hard living for much of his life. He did have one remarkable feature – a pair of sculpted glass lens fixed to metal frames that he wore on his nose. A device of his own design, something he had put together in his youth. Without it, the world would be one big blur to him. There were those who might mock him for wearing such a thing, or for his other qualities as well, but only those who didn't want his services, or his money.

"Marcus," called out one of his workers, the man jogging up to him. "Bolt Press #3 is spitting again. Got Swen on the arm."

"Again?" said Marcus. "I swear, that machine is possessed. Shut it down for now, and get Swen the ointment. I'll look at it later."

The worker went off to attend to matters, leaving Marcus to continue his inspections. Most operations were performing as expected, each machine an integral part of the whole, each worker a cog in the bigger machine of life. Some workers didn't like being referred to as "cogs," as it had a dehumanizing quality to it, but it didn't change the fact that they had their roles to play and their jobs to do. Most of them had a specific focus to their duties, with no grasp of the big picture. That suited Marcus just fine. Besides, throw enough money their way and most people stopped caring about big pictures.

Not everyone had such limited perspective, though, and one such person approached Marcus with a knowing smirk on her face, a little spring to her step. She halted before Marcus, pulled a scroll out of her clothing, and presented it like one might present a sacred relic to a monarch on their coronation day.

"Admit it, I am the best," said Random.

Marcus laughed despite himself as he took the scroll. "No doubt. This is what I think it is, correct?"

"A proper list of the numbers and types of dragons currently living on Berk," said Random. "Not that I trust the math skills of the guy who got it for me, but it's the best I could come up with."

Marcus opened the scroll and studied the list. The initial wording was in the Norse language, but Random had already written down translations so that Marcus wouldn't have to get one of the resident Norse workers to do it. The list was pretty comprehensive, and he was happy to find that the dragon species he had an interest in were present, and in sufficient numbers. Berk would do just fine.

"How did you get back from Berk so quickly?" he asked as he tucked away the list. "My navigator says it would take three days to get from here to there by ship."

Random's brow furrowed at the question, though her smile remained. "Remember our little deal, Marcus?"

"Hard to forget it," replied Marcus. "Let's see… 'Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies. Just give me your money, and I'll give you your prize.'"

"The rhyming makes it memorable," added Random.

"_You_ make it memorable," replied Marcus. "You can't blame me for being curious, though."

"Marcus?" Another worker had shown up, this one wearing copious amount of black residue on his face. "We're having some trouble getting the 'supply' to settle down, and those two new assistants of mine are useless. They won't go near the pipes when I tell them to."

"They're still new, but if you need a hand, go tell our supply manager. He'll handle it. I suggest you also get the ointment. You might need it."

Random watched the ash-covered worker leave, then said, "You sure you want to put such a delicate matter in the hands of your supply manager?"

"He gets the job done," said Marcus. "As for you, dear Random, I fear I must send you out again. I've decided to go ahead and meet with the Berkian Chief over…"

"Done."

Marcus stared at her as if she had just revealed herself as a very weird-looking fish. "What?"

"Done. Chief Hiccup will meet you tomorrow on the island of Cheek Bite at noonday."

Marcus continued with the weird look. "How…? How did you pull that off?"

"I'm a great judge of character. Trust me, Chief Hiccup…" - she snickered at the odd name- "…will be there at your chosen meeting place tomorrow."

"That's good… I think," said Marcus, taking off his eyewear and using a handkerchief to wipe the lenses. "Why so soon, though? There's barely enough time for me to get out to Cheek Bite."

Random grinned mischievously. "Well, it was my idea."

His confused look returned. "You set the meeting time? Why?"

"Because time isn't on your side, Marcus," Random stated. "Once the word gets out about what you're doing here, you're going to be the most popular guy in the North Sea, and that'll paint a target on your back. If you can get Berk on your side, the greed-driven types will think twice about taking over your operation with force. If not, then the sooner we find alternative business partners, the better."

Marcus hadn't considered the idea that his operation could invoke reprisal. He'd picked a geographically isolated spot to set up shop, and while one local foodstuff trader knew the location, he knew nothing more about it. But Random was right – the secret would come out eventually, and it would serve him to get things moving before that happened.

"All right, I guess I'm leaving now," he said. He went over to a nearby worker and told him to fetch the supply manager, then turned back to Random as the worker ran off. "I assume you're coming with me?"

"Naturally," she replied, smiling impishly. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Then please make sure we have adequate 'negotiation aides' on my ship. I'll be down after I talk to the manager." With a little flourish and another smile, Random sauntered towards the main doors and the steps that led down to the dock.

If he hadn't worked with Random as much as he had, hadn't seen her produce results time and time again, Marcus would have kept well clear of the purple-haired woman. There was something… off… about her, like she saw the world differently than any other human in existence. She thrived in situations that made hearty men shiver with fear, the more intense the better. He'd seen her do somersaults in a blizzard, egg on a pack of wolves, and literally skate on thin ice. Life was like a game to her, though the kind of game she played remained unknown. Yet she had helped him every step of the way, finding men and supplies and this perfect location, and she'd done nothing to sabotage or undermine him. This impromptu meeting with Chief Hiccup was merely part of her style, and he had learned to just go with it.

Unlike the resident supply manager, Random was also fun to be with. Marcus was reminded of this fact as the supply manager now stood before him, huge and muscular and not looking like he was having a good day. Even within the sweltering conditions of the factory, the manager refused to remove his spike-adorned armor. A badge of honor to wear it, he had told Marcus. As long as he didn't keel over from heat exhaustion, Marcus didn't care.

"You summoned me, O man who pays my bar tab?" the manager said in mock deference.

"Is the 'supply' back in order?" Marcus asked, ignoring the man's attempt at humor.

"I convinced it to… cooperate," replied the manager.

Marcus looked at him darkly. "You better not have…"

"I used your device, nothing else," explained the manager. "Everything is nice and peaceful. Your new assistants might need more ointment, though." He laughed at that last bit.

Marcus sighed. Might as well get this over with. "I need to leave the island for a day or two, perhaps three. That puts you in charge of things for now. I trust you can handle it?"

The man who had once been a leader of the unruliest misanthropes in all the Arctic Circle smiled at his benefactor, a smile that always reminded Marcus of the smile a shark made right before it found its latest meal.

"I might have some… experience in the matter," said Alvin.


	6. Priorities

**Chapter Five: Priorities**

Toothless half-shoved, half-carried Hiccup through the workshop door as the two of them headed out for their evening ride around the island, the dragon so eager to get airborne that he dragged Hiccup to the exit the moment Hiccup declared an end to his day. With clear weather and an hour left of warming sunshine, a relaxing flight was just what the healer ordered.

Along with the written-request angle, Hiccup had designated sun-up to an-hour-before-sundown as official chief time, where the essential jobs were addressed and any remaining tasks set aside for tomorrow, no doubt to be joined by a host of new ones. Technically, the life of a chief was 24/7, as emergences didn't wait for office hours, but most interruptions during off-hours involved villagers with gripes and grumbles of the non-dangerous variety, so it helped to be unavailable and off the island until nightfall.

Giving his saddle and linkup a quick safety check, Hiccup was seconds away from blessed escape when an interruption managed to find him, this one in the form of his wife and her dragon. Beatrix came gliding in and landed right in front of Toothless, the Night Fury glaring irritably at the Nadder as Astrid jumped down and ran over to Hiccup.

"Tell me we don't have to rescue anybody," said Hiccup, hoping the answer was _no, we don't._

"Everyone's okay, Hiccup," Astrid declared, her eyes wide with unabashed excitement. "I sent the others home so we could talk alone. Hiccup, you're not going to believe this, but…"

Toothless growled loudly in exasperation, interrupting Astrid. Hiccup recognized it as his way of saying _are you ******* kidding me?_ A pent-up dragon that hasn't gotten his daily dose of airtime was a very cranky dragon.

"Can this wait until later?" Hiccup pleaded. "If I don't get Toothless in the air in the next fifteen seconds, I think he might literally kill me."

No stranger to dragon body language, Astrid knew better than to get in the way of an unhappy Night Fury. "How about I ride with you? Beatrix needs a rest and we really need to talk."

Hiccup had no problems with that, so once Astrid told Beatrix to go home, she climbed aboard Toothless and the three of them were off on a familiar route around Berk and the local scenery. Toothless was nice enough to keep the daredevil maneuvering to a minimum, though tonight he had a taste for flying into the narrow gaps between lofty rock formations over and over.

As Toothless got the worst of his unexpressed energy out of his system, Hiccup noted that it'd been a long time since he and Astrid had gone flying together on one dragon. Not since they got back from Riki Poka, in fact. And it was getting rarer for them to even fly together at all, what with Hiccup's new duties and Astrid in charge of the Dragon Squad. It was a trend he wasn't happy with, but he was at a loss as to how to correct it.

"So, about the thing I wouldn't believe?" Hiccup asked, once Toothless had settled into a level flight, content to sail the winds for now.

"It's Outcast Island," she answered. "It's completely deserted."

She was right – he didn't believe it. Even after she went into a lengthy tale of her trip to Alvin's apparently-vacant backyard, he had a hard time accepting the idea. No more Alvin? No more Outcasts? Most people would call that a win and move on with their lives. But this was _Alvin_, a man who was impervious to common sense and constant failure, a man more ruthless than your average Outcast. It wasn't like him to throw down his axe and take off for greener pastures.

"So what do you think?" Astrid asked as she concluded her tale.

"I…" he began, and stopped. Truth be told, this did sound like a mystery that should be followed up on, but right on cue, the image of Stoick entered Hiccup's mind, complete with his stern face and proud visage, gazing at his son with judgment in his eyes. His dad, waiting for Hiccup to make the right choice, the right one for Berk.

"I… I think we count our blessings and move on," said Hiccup.

Astrid didn't react at first, a tad too confused by Hiccup's response to say anything. When she did talk, it was with a lot less enthusiasm than before. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that Alvin is gone, and since he definitely didn't come here, he has to have left the area. He's out of our hair now."

"So… you don't care what happened?"

"Not enough to hunt him down and ask him."

Astrid honestly couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But what if this is some kind of new plan on his part? What if he found a new home and has a bunch of new friends, all gearing up to attack Berk?"

Hiccup chuckled at the idea. "New friends? He's called Alvin the Treacherous for a reason, Astrid."

"I'm just saying that I don't think we should ignore this… and I can't believe _I'm_ the one saying it."

"I'm not ignoring it, Astrid," defended Hiccup. "But what else can we do? You said it yourself. We have no clues to go on. Alvin and his men up and left. For once, I'm doing the smart thing and letting this one go. One less enemy to worry about. Yay."

"I… Okay," she said. "I guess I can't really argue with you when you're doing the smart thing." Based on the lack of enthusiasm in her response, Hiccup could tell that Astrid was unconvinced. Either that, or she remained confused about how Hiccup, a guy who explored the Mainland and the regions around Berk for nothing more than the sheer adventure of it, a guy who had gotten sucked into battle against dark forces over and over again even though he could have easily stayed on the sidelines, had abruptly gotten incurious about a new development not so far away from Berk. Well, if he had to adapt to his new role, so did she. Still, it was surprising that she was as baffled as she was. Didn't she _want _him to put Berk first?

Not desiring to dwell on the matter, Hiccup switched subjects. "I have news, too. A man named Marcus wants to meet with me tomorrow at Cheek Bite Island. Some kind of business or trade deal."

"Never heard of him," she replied.

"Snotlout has. He's supposed to be a trader or tinkerer or something along those lines."

"Snotlout? Since when does he know anyone?"

"I know, right? Still, I want to check this Marcus character out. Would it be imposing on you to ask the Dragon Squad to escort me?"

Astrid laughed. "I think we can clear up our schedule."

With that matter settled, the conversation naturally fell away as the sun proceeded to merge with the horizon, the sky morphing to a mellow orange as night began to fall. Astrid's arms hugged Hiccup tighter as Toothless went through another bout of gentle airborne acrobatics, and for once it felt like old times, back when Hiccup was an insecure boy and Astrid was an assertive girl and Toothless was… well, Toothless, and the three of them were riding the skies above Berk and seeing the old world in a brand new light. Back before the world truly changed, back before all the trials and tribulations.

Back when things were a lot simpler.

* * *

><p>Unlike the rest of his friends, Fishlegs hadn't felt like going home just yet. The inexplicable disappearance of one of Berk's most intractable adversaries had gotten his creative juices flowing, and so he flew Chomps to a teeny-tiny island composed of three large rocks and a smattering of barnacles. It resided off the northern coast and had become his own Sanctuary, much like Hiccup's private pond in the middle of the island. Here was a place where he could write up the day's observations in peace without any disturbances, as his parents liked to argue over everything at home and it was hard to find a quiet spot in the rest of the village. Chomps happily gnawed on the island's biggest rock, one whose mineral composition was exceedingly tough and chewy and great for keeping a Gronckle's teeth in shape.<p>

"Quite a mystery, huh girl?" commented Fishlegs to his dragon, who was content to ignore him. He changed his tone to that of a melodramatic storyteller. "The Outcasts, here one day and gone the next. What fate befell them? Could the same thing happen to Berk?"

A terrible thought hit him. "_Could_ the same thing happen to Berk? I really hope not. We'd have to leave all our stuff. I finally got my mattress molded to the contours of my body and…"

That's when he spotted the ship out to the west. It was too far to be identified, but as he studied it for a minute he was pretty sure it was a long boat, and one without a working sail. It was heading north, a bad direction to be going as there wasn't anything that way except plenty of icebergs and bad weather. There were ocean currents that might push a ship that direction if it had no power of its own, implying the ship might be experiencing difficulties.

"Maybe they're in trouble," mused Fishlegs aloud, and he immediately regretted saying that because the only person around that could render assistance was _him._ This wasn't really his area of expertise. He never shied from dealing with trouble when it was necessary or when his friends needed him, but he never volunteered to go look for it, either. Still, if the ship was caught in a fast-moving current, by the time he went to get help he'd probably lose track of it, and the people onboard would be at the mercy of the Arctic Ocean… which wasn't know for having mercy.

Fishlegs sighed in resignation, tucked away his writing, and stood up. "C'mon, Chomps, we better see if they need help." Chomps seemed disappointed at the prospect of not getting in more chew time, but the Gronckle obediently took to the air after Fishlegs took to his saddle and headed off toward the west.

With the sunlight receding and darkness only minutes away, Fishlegs urged Chomps to put on the speed. The dragon complied and they closed on the stricken vessel in record time. It was evident that the ship had seen ill fortune – the main mast was broken in several places, the sail peppered with holes, the hull listing to one side. Any more abuse and the ship would sink. It was lucky to be floating as is. Fishlegs counted five people on the ship, all of them looking desperate to be anywhere other than where they were.

"Hello?" Fishlegs yelled out as he closed in. "I'm here to help if you need it… AHHH!"

The first, second, and third responses to Fishlegs's friendly offer came in the form of three crossbow bolts aimed in his direction. The shots were poor, Chomps easily flying clear, but it was not the response Fishlegs expected.

"Back to finish what you started?" cried out one of the archers, waving his crossbow menacingly. "We're ready for you this time, and we can see you coming."

"What are you talking about?" shouted back Fishlegs. "I came out here to help. Your ship is passing by Berk, and…"

"Don't give us that!" the man replied. "You cowards attack us in the dead of night, and now you're pretending to help?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Fishlegs dearly wished Hiccup was here. He was much better at interpersonal stuff. He somehow made friends with everybody.

The archer and his two armed pals reloaded their weapons and trained them at Fishlegs. "Dragons attacked us. Dragons with people on their backs. People who laughed the whole time. The only people we know who ride dragons come from _your_ island."

This whole conversation was getting very disturbing, very quickly. Dragons and riders attacking an innocent ship? As far as Fishlegs knew, no one on Berk would stoop to such a malicious and cowardly thing. But right now, it was the crew on the ship that had to be convinced, and they didn't sound too keen on being convinced. They were angry and frightened, like Chomps when she had a bellyache, and while that didn't make them easy to work with, they still needed saving.

"Guys, here's my deal," he shouted to the crew. "In a few minutes, it's going to get really dark, and the nights here get really cold. You're about to float past the only inhabited island for hundreds of miles, and I'm pretty sure your ship is close to sinking. You can trust me, or you can take your chances with the ocean."

Fishlegs surprised himself – that sounded downright confident. His words must have penetrated past the crew's fear, for though they kept their crossbows at the ready, they also began to converse with one another, most likely debating their options. After a minute, the head archer looked back at Fishlegs, his face solemn instead of angry.

"What do you propose?" he asked.

"Throw me a rope," Fishlegs offered. "My dragon can drag you to the shore, and then you can come to my village. You can keep your crossbows aimed at me if you like." He _hated_ adding that last part, but it might be the only way to convince them of his good intentions.

Another minute of conversing later, the lead archer lowered his crossbow and nodded his head. "We don't appear to have much choice. Get close and we'll throw you a line. You try anything, and your dragon will have more holes in it than our sails."

Fishlegs had Chomps move closer to the ship, and one of the sailors threw a weighted rope to Fishlegs, who then tied the rope to his saddle. Chomps veered back toward Berk, there was a powerful jerk as the rope tightened, and the ship slowly began to turn as the Gronckle's great strength was pitted against the damaged vessel and the omnipresent current. The dragon grunted and panted as it hauled at the vessel, her wings beating furiously, and soon the boat picked up speed as it followed the dragon through the darkening waters.

Fishlegs wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he knew to save it for when he and Chomps made it back to Berk without any new holes. No sense in jinxing the moment.

* * *

><p>A chief's job was 247, and this time the interruption was actually an emergency.

Toothless stood on guard, keeping an eye out for any danger, while Hiccup stood on the deck of the beached ship and inspected it like he might inspect a new piece of steel for impurities, carefully looking for any clues of the attackers' identity. Hiccup's handheld torch offered poor illumination for the task, but as he had a meeting to get to in the morning, it was now or possibly never. This was the only opportunity he'd get for the inspection, especially since he had promised the sailors materials and assistance in repairing their ship and that no one would go near their ship and its cargo (not that anyone wanted to steal ten crates of pickled beets). Judging from the damage, it wouldn't take long for the ship to be seaworthy again, a day or two at worst.

Astrid stood on the deck near Hiccup, acting as a second guard but more focused on the damaged sail and mast than in watching the skies. After hearing the harrowing story from the sailors, she had insisted on coming along, even grabbing her myssteel axe as a precaution. She slowly twirled her axe in her hands as she studied the torn sails, lost in thought.

"These holes don't make any sense," she stated. "These sails aren't ripped or shredded, like you'd expect from dragon claws and teeth."

"No burn marks, either," added Hiccup, studying a small hole in the wooden deck. The ship wasn't exactly well maintained, the wear and tear implying it was an old vessel close to getting retired and scrapped, but this one hole seemed new, fresh. It was fairly deep as well, indicating a good deal of force was used to create the hole.

"The sailors said the dragons didn't breathe fire or use any breath attacks at all," continued Astrid, "and there were all these loud popping sounds coming from the dragons. You ever hear of dragons… popping?"

"Not even once," said Hiccup absently. He was already back to yesterday and the secondhand tale about dragon attacks, as well as the little trinket he had stupidly tossed away. Part of him had hoped the tale would stay just that: a tale, a rumor, a myth, a bit of excitement for villagers with little excitement in their lives. But this ship's damage was proof that the attack wasn't an exaggeration or misrepresentation. This new attack was quite real, and if not for Fishlegs, no one alive might have ever known about it.

The sailors were simple traders coming back from a semi-successful trade run (selling everything but the beets) when a flock of dragons ambushed them at sea. It was too dark to see them properly, to get types and exact numbers, and none of the dragons came close to the ship. They flew circles around the vessel while thunder-like pops sounded out, followed by holes exploding all along the ship. The dragons mostly targeted the mast and sails, ignoring the sailors and their cargo. The only evidence the sailors had for believing that the dragons had riders was the very-human laughter that came out of the darkness as the dragons flew about. For some reason, the dragons and their riders spared them and left, though the ship was in such a bad state that it was impossible to steer it. Hiccup had a feeling that the raiders weren't thinking mercy when they stopped their attack, but had a crueler fate in mind for the poor traders.

That was over two days ago. The ship had drifted all that time, the sailors praying for rescue or hoping to drift close enough to land to swim for it. They were lucky to find Berk, and even luckier to find Fishlegs.

Finding no mental illumination coming from the ruined sails, Astrid turned to Hiccup. Her concern was unmistakable. "I don't want to say it, Hiccup, but… is it possible that someone from our village did this?"

"Astrid, can I see your axe for a second?" Hiccup replied, ignoring her question. As much as he wanted to emphatically say no, until he knew more about what was going on he couldn't dismiss any possibilities. Right now he needed more evidence, and he was pretty sure he knew where to get it.

Astrid looked at him funny for justifiable reasons, then traded him her axe for his torch. He motioned at her to step back, raising the axe above his head, and then brought it down squarely on the hole, the wood parting aside like butter. He changed his angle and brought the axe down a second time, widening the hole and making it three times as ugly as before.

"Uh, Hiccup," said Astrid, staring at her husband with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, "I don't think our guests will appreciate you chopping up their boat."

Satisfied with the size of the hole, Hiccup wordlessly exchanged the torch for Astrid's axe so he could see down the hole. He caught a glimpse of something metallic in the torchlight, prompting him to reach into the hole and feel around for the object in question. His fingers brushed up against it, found it embedded in the wood, and with some effort (and a little help from his dagger, which he used to pry the object loose) he extracted the object out of the hole, holding it in the palm of his hand under the torch.

Outside of some superficial damage caused by the impact, the object was pretty intact. It was too bad that Hiccup had foolishly tossed the little memento he'd been given yesterday, because he was sure that the round ball bearing about the size of a small pebble in his hands would have been awful similar to it. The thought made his blood grow as cold as the night air around him, but now he was certain this proved the attacks weren't coming from Berk… not that it proved anything else.

Curious and still rather confused, Astrid came closer and inspected the ball bearing. "Are you going to start explaining things, Hiccup?"

"I'm not sure I have an explanation, Astrid," he replied. "I think this little metal ball was responsible for making that hole. I think if we looked hard enough, we'd find more of them across the ship."

Astrid plucked the ball bearing from his hand and gave it a closer inspection. It didn't help with the sense-making. "This little thing? It'd bounce off the hull."

"Not unless it was going pretty fast, and with enough force behind it."

Astrid turned his gaze back on Hiccup. "Is there a dragon out there that shoots little balls like these?"

"None that I know of," he replied. "But honestly, I don't think the dragons are doing it. This projectile looks manmade."

"How can you tell?"

"I'm a blacksmith, Astrid. I know my ball bearings." He took the projectile back from her and pocketed it. "But that's all I can put together right now. I'd like to talk to those traders again and see if…"

Hiccup noted the skeptical look on Astrid's face. "If you have something to say, honey, say it."

"Oh, I don't have much to say," she stated. "Only that it's a mighty big coincidence that Alvin disappears and now we have dragons with riders attacking ships."

Hiccup shrugged. "I admit that it's a possibility, but it actually _could_ be a coincidence, Astrid. Besides, if Alvin had dragons at his command, I'd think he'd be attacking _us_, not trade ships."

"Unless he's trying out his dragons on small targets, like a practice run."

"That doesn't explain how he's shooting projectiles. He's not exactly a whiz with tinkering."

"Okay, that part doesn't make any sense to me, either," admitted Astrid. "All I'm saying is that we can't ignore the possibility that Alvin is behind this."

"Agreed," replied Hiccup. "But we also can't ignore the possibility that he might have nothing to do with this."

They both came to the conclusion that the conversation wasn't destined to have a satisfactory conclusion, so Astrid switched to practical matters. "What's the plan now?"

"The plan now is to make sure our guests are comfortable and to ask them a few more questions. We double the night sentries on the watch, you and I go home and get some sleep, and in the morning we're off to meet with Marcus."

Judging by the look on her face, whatever answer Astrid wanted him to give her, he didn't give it. "That's it?"

"Isn't that plenty?" he said. "What else do you want me to do? Fly off on Toothless and hunt down the perpetrators myself?"

"No, of course not," she replied, though the tinge in her voice made it sound like the silly idea hadn't sounded so silly to her. "You're right, we need to stick to Berk's priorities."

If Astrid was feeling disappointed, Hiccup easily felt twice as bad. He _did_ want to fly off on Toothless and go search the nearby islands, ask passing ships and villages about dragon sightings or wandering Outcasts. He wanted to go to his workshop and put the ball bearing through a series of tests, see if he could replicate the force needed to launch the projectile at hull-breaking speeds. He wanted to solve this mystery before it grew into a bigger problem, regardless of whether it affected Berk or not.

But he was chief, and he had to put Berk first. That meant trade meetings and a workshop full of written requests. That meant not dragging Berk into trouble. That meant no more flying off on a moment's notice. After the meeting tomorrow, maybe he'd find some way to follow up on the dragon attacks, send someone out on a scouting trip. But it couldn't be him doing the scouting, because a chief had to focus on the welfare of his people and stay where it mattered.

And for the second time in as many days, it felt like the wrong choice to make.


	7. Hospitality

**Chapter Six: Hospitality**

The next morning offered a bad omen of sorts, at least to those who believed in omens. Beatrix woke up the household with a shriek of dragon distress just before sunup, forcing Astrid out of bed to see what the matter was. With half of Beatrix's dragon house lying in ruins, the cause of the Nadder's distress became clear. She liked her abode nice and intact, and she always got distressed when something happened to it. What wasn't clear was what had caused the damage, Beatrix or some other dragon or an infestation of termites, but Astrid had to spend time consoling the sulking dragon, reassuring her that the dragon house would be fixed when they got back, and it almost made them late to the meeting.

Hiccup hoped it would be the only "hiccup" today, but these kinds of random events had a tendency to run in packs.

Toothless remained in great spirits as he and the rest of the Dragon Squad flew formation over the bright and boundless sea. He was getting in more flying time than normal, and it felt like the good old days again, leading the squad and heading toward adventure. More accurately, though, he was being escorted, the village chief and his trusty dragon guarded by the best dragon riders of Berk. Not that he needed the protection, but appearances were important when meeting with outside powers.

Hiccup missed the Dragon Squad days as much as Toothless, not just the flying but the little things – Fishlegs rattling off dragon factoids whenever he saw a flight of wild dragons, the Twins having an argument over who forgot to take out the trash, Snotlout saying something insensitive or mean, Astrid threatening Snotlout over what he just said. All the minute details that gave your life definition, all the things you started to miss when you adopt a new role. Hiccup knew that, being chief, he could take back the leadership spot in the Dragon Squad without much fuss, but he could never do that to Astrid. She took tremendous pride in leading, and she did a great job at it.

But between feelings of nostalgia were feelings of doubt. Hiccup was starting to wonder if this meeting was a good idea. Yesterday's revelations about Alvin's disappearance and random dragon attacks had him feeling a little paranoid. Maybe this Marcus fellow was a false identity for Alvin, or even a brand-new villain, and this meeting was just one big ruse. While Snotlout's cursory knowledge of Marcus made the idea seem unlikely, Snotlout was never one to engender confidence in much of anything. The fact that Snotlout began the trip in a great mood, and remained in a great mood while keeping the dumb comments to a mere handful, only made things that much weirder.

Still, they were bringing plenty of dragon firepower to the party, not to mention Astrid's special axe, and Cheek Bite Island was a bad spot for planning ambushes. It was little more than a few towering rock formations connected by a thin spit of sand. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. If this was a trap, it would fare badly for the trappers.

"Cheek Bite Island directly ahead," called out Fishlegs, pointing out the obvious as the island's finger-like rock structures were hard to miss. "And I think we're the last ones to arrive."

Hiccup noticed the ant-like figures on the sandy section of the island, a large trading ship anchored offshore. Those paranoia vibes of his were rapidly fading as he got closer, considering how non-threatening the group on the ground looked. The trade ship had no obvious armaments, built for speed and cargo hauling instead of fighting.

"Maybe one of us should stay in the air," suggested Astrid. "Just to be on the safe side."

Hiccup thought about it for a moment and then vetoed the idea. "I think that would only make things tense. Besides, if anything happens down there, I'd rather have us together than spread out."

The landing approach was easy, the landings even easier. The gathered men and women had little to no reaction to the dragons other than guarded comments to one another. This bunch must have experience with dragons to be so casual around them. Several tents had been set up along the beach and the general atmosphere felt more like one of those fancy beach parties the Lords of Riki Poka liked to throw on occasion than a business meeting.

"I'm not sure what I was picturing," said Astrid as she dismounted, "but it definitely wasn't this."

Hiccup and the other Vikings dismounted and walked to the tents as a group. Before they got halfway, a man and a woman emerged from the nearest tent and greeted them, flanked by a pair of unarmed guards. The man was all smiles and no hair, and he wore a pair of glass lenses on his face that made his eyes look bigger than normal. He had no threat factor. The younger woman was odder, wearing a purple ponytail and fancy-yet-somewhat-revealing clothing. But her smile seemed genuine and Hiccup didn't get any hostile feelings from her.

"Chief Hiccup, I presume?" said the man, stretching out his hand for shaking, which Hiccup took and shook. "I am Marcus Kepler. I am so pleased that you accepted my invitation. I promise to make this worth your while."

"I thank you for asking so nicely," replied Hiccup. "Most people who invite me places phrase it as _come or suffer the dishonor of a thousand generations._ Vikings can be melodramatic."

Hiccup introduced his wife, his friends, and their dragons. Marcus seemed intrigued by Astrid in particular. "You are one of the Champions from Riki Poka. They still talk about your exploits during the War of the Alchemist."

Astrid smiled at that." So I'm kinda famous?"

"As famous as all the rest," said Marcus.

"Really?" said Ruffnut, moving in closer and wearing a hopeful expression. "Do they talk about a pair of heroic twins?"

Marcus's look of bafflement did not bode well. "Uh… well, I've heard stories about a dragon with twin heads. Is that what you mean?"

Ruffnut's hope dropped immediately to utter disappointment. "Unbelievable," she said, shaking her head and walking away. "Just unbelievable."

Marcus then introduced his right-hand woman, Random. Despite the unusualness of her name, Hiccup kept his mouth shut about it. Snotlout, however, didn't have that little censor in his head.

"Wow, Random, that's a different name," he said. "Never heard that one before. Not the name most people give their kids. Certainty never heard it before. Not me." There was a slight desperate quality to his tone as he talked, as if he realized mid-sentence that he was saying something stupid.

Hiccup closed his eyes and mentally willed Snotlout to shut up, or failing that, for Random to not be angry. When he opened his eyes, he found Random remarkably unperturbed, though she did shoot Snotlout a little glare. "My parents were at an interesting stage in their lives when they named me," was her verbal response.

Marcus remained unflustered by all this, and he motioned to the tents. "If your guards desire, I brought an assortment of foods for our meeting. I assumed that you might be hungry. There is also fish for your dragons, though the catch is a day old."

Fishlegs's eyes lit up at the prospect, and he looked Hiccup's way with a plea on his lips. "Um, Hiccup, I know we didn't come here to eat…"

"Go ahead, Legs," Hiccup replied. With a little _Yay, _Fishlegs happily went off to the food tent.

"How are we sure it's not poisoned?" asked Tuffnut. "Or… just really bad?"

Snotlout almost seemed angry at the idea. "Don't be stupid. You think they'd invite us here just to kill us with food?"

Tuffnut found this logic to his liking. "Well, then I'm going to help myself. C'mon, sis, you can drown your sorrows at the fruit table." He half-dragged his sulking sister with him.

"I'm good for now," said Astrid. "I'm staying with Hiccup."

Snotlout puffed out his chest and said, "I, also, will do that."

Hiccup and Astrid looked at him funny. "Ah, you really don't have to," said Hiccup.

"It's alright," said Random. "Don't worry about matters of trust. If you'd like two escorts, so be it. Whatever it takes to make you all feel secure."

Hiccup almost explained that having Snotlout around was the _opposite_ of feeling secure, but he let the matter drop. Hopefully Snotlout would keep to his best behavior… No, hopefully he would do better than that.

* * *

><p>As time went on, Hiccup had a harder and harder time thinking anything nefarious was going on, considering that Marcus and Random could muster more charm than all of Berk put together. The mood was easy-breezy, sitting on wooden chairs under a fur-lined tent, watching the waves roll around in the distance, holding in his hands a crafted mug full of… something.<p>

"I call it dark bitter," said Marcus, sitting opposite to him and waiting for Hiccup to try the jet-black liquid in his hands. He had a similar cup as well, given to him by Random, and he had already taken a long swig of it. "It's a rare thing this far north. In fact, you practically have to go to the other side of the world to get the beans you need. It's not the best tasting thing out there, but it's handy when you're up long nights and need to stay awake."

The concoction smelled quite good, but it looked rather uninviting. Hiccup was flashing back to his first friendly interaction with Toothless, the dragon regurgitating part of the meal he'd just eaten and expecting Hiccup to… partake. This couldn't be any worse than that.

Astrid stood off to the side with her arms folded, acting the role of Chief Bodyguard. He looked her way for a suggestion of what to do, and she merely nodded her head, suggesting he should man up and drink the mysterious brew. He didn't bother gathering Snotlout's opinion, as he was standing near Random at the far end of the tent, essentially out of the conversation. It looked like he was attempting to flirt with Random, and the fact that he hadn't been pummeled yet meant a miracle was underway. Either that, or Snotlout really was behaving himself – also a miracle.

Rather than dwell further on Snotlout, Hiccup put the mug to his lips and had a swallow. As the name suggested, it was rather bitter going down, but not unpleasantly so. Maybe with some honey or yak milk, it might be palatable.

"I bet you don't get stuff like that up here at all," said Marcus, concluding that the drink was a winner. "I know I miss it. I have to pay traders handsomely just to get a few apples. If we could get more traders to see the worth in coming this far north, we might find ourselves not so cut off from the rest of the world."

"We're pretty self-sufficient," said Hiccup. "I mean, there's not much flavor to our cabbage, but it keeps us alive."

"There's living, and then there's thriving," said Marcus. "Random is my research agent, and she's told me a lot of about Berk... and about you. Your people are five years out of a three-hundred-year war with a massive dragon nest. Berk is a shining example of human resiliency in the face of overwhelming odds, but you still largely keep to yourselves. You've personally seen much of the world, Chief Hiccup. You know what it can offer. Can you tell me that you're happy with your village staying isolated forever?"

It was an excellent question, one that Hiccup wrestled with constantly. His dad had erred on the side of isolation – a small village was at the mercy of bigger powers, and having dragons didn't change that fact. Stoick had tolerated Hiccup's wanderlust as long as he was smart about it, but Hiccup never got the impression that his father saw any value to it. The village had survived three centuries on its own, with little trade and no support from other tribes. As far as his dad had been concerned, it could survive the next three centuries the same way. And when there were major interactions with outside powers, it was typically the hostile kind. The Outcasts, the Berserkers, and even the Gunnarr – all examples of what happened when you caught the attention of the wrong people.

But he had seen the world, seen the vast deserts of the Desolation, the great forests of the Mainland, the bustling metropolis that is Riki Poka. He'd fought for and at the side of a lot of amazing people as well. As much as he loved Berk, he could see the good in the different cultures of the world, in the people who weren't all that different from him and his tribe. They had different fashions, different languages, and different customs, some of which were dramatically different than any Viking ritual, but they loved and hated and quested to find their purpose in life, and it was hard to see them as inherently dangerous or even inhuman.

Hiccup's gaze wandered out of the tent and toward Toothless, who was lounging on the beach with the other dragons, along with Fishlegs and the Twins, and enjoying a second helping of fish. A few of Marcus's men were watching the dragons eat, their expressions curious rather than fearful. It was nice to have a first meeting with a group who didn't intrinsically fear dragons… and yet, it reminded Hiccup that Marcus had an agenda here. If they had so little apprehension of dragons, what did that mean exactly? Marcus clearly knew how to worm his way past Hiccup's defenses, but a worm wasn't something you wanted to find in your daily bread.

"I'm appreciating your hospitality, Marcus," said Hiccup, "but I can't help but feel like your buttering me up for something." Time for the pleasantries to end.

"Ah, that's the rub," Marcus admitted. He placed his cup to the side and leaned forward. "Let us get to the point, then. Chief Hiccup, you have a resource that I could use."

_Please don't say dragons_, Hiccup thought. "Which is?"

"Your dragons," said Marcus, adding, "but not the way you might think."

Despite hearing the D-word, Hiccup managed to keep his calm, though his gaze narrowed. "Again, which is?"

"What I want is something they produce naturally," Marcus explained calmly and assuredly. "What I want can be taken with no harm done to the dragon. Let me show you what I mean, because talk is cheap and I came prepared to do more than talk."

* * *

><p>"So, you impressed yet?" muttered Snotlout to Random, trying to look cool and collected and periodically brushing himself off like a Nadder preening itself in front of a potential mate.<p>

Random thought about giving him her _real_ answer, then thought better of it. She still needed him down the road. Marcus and Hiccup seemed to hitting it off pretty well, but first impressions didn't always lead to successful agreements.

"You got him here, I'll grant you that," she muttered back to him. "Definitely business partner material. But we still have to get your chief to seal the deal. I think you can help there."

"Of course I can," he bragged. "I'm good at arm-twisting. It runs in my family."

"How about we save that for later?" she said. "Instead, when we need a volunteer, I want you to pipe up and do it."

"Volunteer?" said Snotlout. "What for?"

"Oh, nothing painful… probably." She didn't bother to hide her smile.

* * *

><p>Leaving the shade of the tent, Marcus led Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout and Random toward the other side of the sandy section of the island, stopping by the food tables to collect the Twins and Fishlegs, all of who were happily stuffed. The dragons were likewise content, though Toothless decided to follow Hiccup out of curiosity, and Snotlout convinced Fenrir to come along despite the dragon wanting to take a nap instead.<p>

A metal stand was set up amidst a pile of rocks and an iron trunk had been laid near it. Long and squat, the trunk couldn't possibly hold much, and Hiccup's interest was certainly piqued. Too bad that he was no longer feeling as friendly toward Marcus like before. No matter how many assurances Marcus gave him, Hiccup felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him. There was no way Hiccup would let his dragons get exploited for any amount of wealth. But he still wanted to see what Marcus had in mind, and see if it was a threat to Berk.

Marcus went over to the trunk, undid the lock, and opened it. Without any ado, he reached inside, grunting with effort as he pulled out… an unusual object, to say the least. Marcus placed it on the stand so that Hiccup and the rest could get a good look, not that getting a better look helped much.

It resembled a crossbow, but the front section had a long metal tube instead of pulleys and cord. The underside of the device was part polished wood, a standard brace, and part metal canister, fixed underneath the tube lengthwise. It had a sliding vent on top and a few other doodads that Hiccup couldn't quite place, including what appeared to be a lever attached to the side of the tube. The whole device was close to four feet in length from tip to brace. Based on how much Marcus struggled with carrying it, the device was also fairly heavy.

"Okay, Hiccup, it's official," said Astrid, flummoxed by the contraption. "You're no longer the craziest inventor I know of."

"Well, that's reassure…" started Hiccup, then added, "Wait, you think I'm crazy?"

"Only when you're trying to get yourself killed," she explained.

Marcus stood next to the device and waited for the initial reactions to settle. He remained as confident as before, which did work in his favor. Certainly none of his men were laughing at the odd creation.

"I know it doesn't look like much," he began, "but let me warn you right now that this device is quite dangerous. I've spent many years working on this design, making it safe to handle and use, but parts of it remain potentially volatile, so I ask that you all stay where you are for now."

"What's volatile?" asked Tuffnut.

Marcus pointed to the metal canister. "This part in particular, but much of the device itself…"

"No, what does _volatile_ mean?" elaborated Tuffnut.

"It could explode," explained Hiccup, hoping he was wrong about that. Tuffnut suddenly found himself a lot more interested.

Hiccup also noticed that there was a combat dummy off in the distance, near the surf line. Little more than your traditional wooden creation designed for target practice, Marcus had the device lined up so that tube pointed at the dummy. Putting two and two together, Hiccup realized that this device was going to do something damaging to that dummy, which meant it was a weapon.

Turning his back to the crowd, Marcus grasped the lever and pumped it once, twice, three times. He flipped a switch on the side of the tube, braced the weapon to his shoulder, and aimed the tube at the target dummy, using the stand to support the weapon's weight. The air grew tense and silent as everyone awaited a reaction, even the folks who knew what the device could do. _Especially_ them.

_BANG!_

The harsh crack hit Hiccup's ears like a fist to the forehead, his hands instinctively covering his ears despite the futility of the gesture. Astrid and his friends reacted much the same way, Toothless and Fenrir growling and rearing back in surprise, reacting like a hostile dragon had just declared its intentions to fight. The sharp bang almost made Hiccup miss the real show, that of the blast of smoke erupting from the weapon and _something_ shooting out of the tube so fast he couldn't follow it. The target dummy's chest region exploded in a shower of flying debris and dust, obscuring the extent of the damage for the few seconds it took for the unprepared audience to recover from the noise.

"What was up with that?" said Ruffnut, shaking her head in an attempt to eliminate the ringing from her ears.

"I think that was the volatile part," said Fishlegs.

"What?" yelled Tuffnut, who had yet to remove his hands from his ears.

Hiccup had to spend a few moments calming down Toothless, who looked ready to fry the contraption right then and there. Snotlout had more trouble with Fenrir, who had spontaneously combusted in surprise and was charring Snotlout's already-blackened saddle. Once Hiccup was confident that no fireballs would be flying, he approached Marcus in a huff.

"Are you mad?" said Hiccup to Marcus's back. "Don't you know how sensitive a dragon's ears are?"

"I am well aware," said Marcus unemotionally as he made a few adjustments to his device, not bothering to look Hiccup's way. "I needed you to experience the full effect of what I've made." He gestured at the target dummy. "See for yourself."

Astrid was already at the dummy, having shook off the ear assault quicker than the rest, and she didn't acknowledge Hiccup when he walked up to see what she was staring at. Hiccup could relate to her shock, because the chest region of the dummy no longer existed. Most of it was one big hole full of splinters, blown clean through. The force of the blast had to be incredible. He'd only see catapults and Night Fury plasma bolts do that kind of damage.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. The Alchemist had weapons of this nature as well, but that had been super-advanced mystical tech. Hiccup never imagined that anyone else would find a way to make low-tech versions of such weapons… and yet, it seemed that Marcus had. The thought scared him more than it intrigued him.

"Thoughts, Astrid?" he quietly asked.

"I'm still freaked out here," she admitted, putting her hand through the hole in the dummy to confirm that her eyes weren't lying to her. "Check back later."

Marcus was patiently waiting for Hiccup as he returned, his expression showing a degree of sympathy to Hiccup's consternation. "Scary, isn't it? The first time I saw it punch a hole through a stack of two-by-fours, I was astounded by the sheer weight of it. The firepower of a dragon… in the palm of our hands." He placed a hand on his weapon, seemingly proud of his creation. "This is going to change the world."

Hiccup didn't even know where to begin, his emotions as turbulent as they were, so he decided to start with the simple questions first. "How does it work?"

Marcus pointed at the canister. "Combustion gas. The same kind used by many species of dragon. In fact, I use a mixture of Nightmare, Nadder, and Zippleback. The mix keeps it from getting too unstable. The canister stores the gas, the lever pumps it into the firing chamber, and the trigger scrapes the flint inside to initiate detonation. The vent on the surface expels the byproduct and the tube projects the controlled explosion forward, sending the projectile towards whatever you point the tube at. You saw the results."

"I… certainly did." Hiccup's guts were not thrilled with this conversation's direction. "So you need dragons to fuel this thing."

Marcus smiled in an attempt to be reassuring. "Only the gas, and you can get that from a dragon without hurting it."

"You can?" said Hiccup, his tone dark and skeptical. "The only dragon I know that can freely give up combustion gas is a Zippleback."

"It's all in the technique." Marcus reached into the trunk and pulled out a separate canister, though this one was fitted with an iron funnel connected to the top. "You just have to get the dragon to breathe fire without actually breathing fire. I can show you right here, if you'd like."

Hiccup was in no mood to subject Toothless or any other dragon to more abuse. "Sorry, but I don't think we're going to…"

"I'll do it!" Snotlout declared, throwing one last bucket of water on his smoldering saddle. "Fenrir and I will do it."

Hiccup looked at Snotlout incredulously. Snotlout volunteering _again?_ Did Snotlout get hit on the head too many times and switch personalities or something?

Snotlout came over to Marcus, took the canister, and went back to his dragon, who was looking at his rider with what passed for skepticism. Snotlout looked the canister over, at a loss as to what to do.

"You stick the funnel at the back of the dragon's throat," explained Marcus, wisely keeping some distance from the proceedings. "Then get him to breathe. When he's done, twist the valve on the side of the canister to close it."

The look on Snotlout's face suggested that he realized a possible flaw in this plan. "Wouldn't that mean I'm right in front of his mouth while he's breathing fire?"

"Dragons that use combustion gas have a special gland on the roof of their mouth," said Marcus. "The gas doesn't turn to flame until it hits that gland. Get the funnel past the gland, and the gas stays a gas. Just don't push it in too far, or you'll trigger a gag reflex."

Hiccup considered calling an end to this exercise, but part of him remained interested in Marcus's breadth of knowledge. He clearly knew things about dragons that went past Hiccup's expertise. Exactly _how _Marcus had come by this knowledge was what worried him.

No longer confident about his volunteerism, Snotlout looked Fenrir in the eye and said, "Okay, Fenrir, you heard the guy. You open your mouth, I'll stick the funnel in there, and then I'll tell you to breathe. Got it?"

Fenrir did not open his mouth, looking even more hesitant than before. Snotlout's forehead wrinkled as his temper rose. "Fenrir, you're making us look bad. I promise that nothing bad will happen." He lowered his voice and added, "And I'll let you sleep in the basement with me tonight."

The bribery did the trick, Fenrir opening wide to await the funnel. Snotlout carefully shoved the funnel to the back of the Nightmare's throat, privately praying to Thor that he might escape this with only a few first-degree burns.

"Okay… now," said Snotlout, cringing in anticipation.

A grumbling built down in Fenrir's throat, followed by a hissing rush as the gas flowed into the dragon's mouth. But instead of igniting and toasting Snotlout's face, the gas streamed into the funnel, surging into the canister. After several seconds, the hiss of the gas faded, and Snotlout immediately twisted the value to close the canister, breathing a sigh of relief as he extracted the funnel from Fenrir's mouth.

On its way out, the funnel tickled the back of Fenrir's throat and inadvertently irritated it, the dragon rearing back and gagging in response. Snotlout got the canister clear of the Nightmare's mouth before he could snap at it, but the resulting gagging fit caused a second burst of spontaneous combustion to erupt along Fenrir's body. Snotlout cried out in exasperation as he handed the canister off to Hiccup and ran to get another bucket of water, hoping to save his saddle while there was something left of it.

"Darn," commented Ruffnut sourly from the sidelines. "Not a burn on him."

The exercise safely over with, Marcus turned to Hiccup, who was studying the canister in his hands, and said, "It's better when the dragon is more relaxed, but once you get the technique down, it's perfectly safe for all parties involved."

Hiccup was more interested in the canister at the moment. It was heavier than he imagined, not surprising considering the sturdy iron it was made of, but it was hard not to be impressed with the sophistication. He had played with using Zippleback gas for another project of his, a retractable sword that could burn fire at a moment's notice. More designed for impressing wild dragons or superstitious adversaries than as a weapon, he had been working on the early stages of the sword when his dad became ill, so he never had the chance to finish it. He still needed a container for the combustion gas. Marcus had already beaten him to it… and how.

Hiccup couldn't make up his mind on how to feel about Marcus – horrified, impressed, or both.

* * *

><p>Deciding that he needed a walk to clear his head, Hiccup asked Marcus for a little time to himself. Ever the gracious businessman, Marcus agreed. Considering the size of the island, Hiccup couldn't go real far, but Hiccup needed time to think. The impact of Marcus's weapon demonstration and his knowledge of dragons and tinkering had left him drained, with too much to process.<p>

Toothless walked with him, acting as guard and confidant. He didn't bothering pestering Hiccup for a ride. He knew his rider's moods as much as Hiccup knew his. The others were back at the camp, enjoying the hospitality and the excitement of the day. Hiccup wished he could feel the same.

One other person felt the same emotional quandary as he did, and Astrid was ahead of him again, on the far side of the island, staring out at the sea as if hoping it might alleviate her discomfort. Hiccup walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"This bothers you too, huh?" he said, standing with her and giving the sea a quick once-over. No storms incoming – he half-expected one to show up at this point.

"I keep thinking about the past," she said, keeping her eyes forward. "We've seen a lot of amazing and terrible things. Ships that can fly, metal creatures that move, undead… things, and I've taken it all in stride before. But that weapon Marcus showed us… it frightens me, and I'm not sure why."

"It frightens me as well," said Hiccup, "and I think I know why. With Cervantes and Guardians and the Alchemist, it was all forgotten powers. The last lingering bits of technology from a dead civilization, or mystical arts that no one knows how to use anymore. It was dangerous, but I didn't think anyone else could recreate it or use it."

"But this is different," said Astrid, finishing his thought. "This is someone coming up with something brand new, something people can learn to make and use. I think Marcus is right. This is going to change the world… but not for the better."

Sensing the dour nature of the conversation, Toothless went over to Astrid and gave her hand a nuzzle. She returned the affection. As Hiccup watched his dragon pal try to cheer up Astrid, he was reminded of the duality of dragons. A loyal friend or a deadly foe, they could be used in either capacity. The thought that other people could one day learn how to ride dragons and use them as tools of destruction was never far from his mind, which was why the reports of dragons with riders attacking innocent people disturbed him so.

Marcus's weapon was also a tool when it was all said and done. But it was tool designed for one thing – violence. Unlike a dragon, it didn't have other uses. It might make a handy doorstop, but that was about it.

"There's another thing," continued Astrid, and this time she looked at Hiccup. "The sailors that Fishlegs saved told us that they were hearing popping sounds all around them during the dragon attack… and that weapon made a pretty big pop."

"I thought that, too," he replied. "But you saw how our dragons reacted. Dragons have sensitive ears, and a noise that loud hurts them. I can't imagine someone firing a weapon like that on a back of a dragon and not getting thrown off."

"But what else could it be, then?"

"I don't know, Astrid," he said. "I want to stick around a little longer, talk to Marcus and figure out what his intentions are. And you're not going to like this… but I want you and the rest of the crew to head back home."

Hiccup was right – the look in her eyes showed she clearly didn't like the idea. "Hiccup, are you crazy?"

Hiccup smiled. "Crazy inventor, remember?"

"I'm serious. You just met this guy."

"He might open up more if he thinks I trust him," he explained. "He puts a lot of stock in his invention. I think he wants somebody else to go _oo _and _ah_ over it. He wants validation. So I show him trust, and maybe we'll get more answers. Besides, I'll still have Toothless."

"What if he has more surprises up his sleeve?"

Hiccup smirked. "I think I know how to handle surprises by now, Astrid. Please don't make me pull rank."

Astrid put up a dirty look for a moment, but it quickly softened once she realized his mind was made up. She moved to him and planted a warm kiss on his lips. "Please don't do anything stupid."

As she left, Hiccup felt his guts burble with displeasure again, a little sharper than before. They were doing that a lot lately. Hopefully they weren't trying to tell him something. Either that, or dark bitter really didn't agree with him.

* * *

><p>Hiccup's roiling guts had returned to a calmer state by the time he came back to Marcus, the bald-headed inventor sitting in his tent with a new mug of dark bitter in his laps, diligently cleaning his facial lenses with a handkerchief. Astrid and the rest of the squad were gone, as Hiccup had ordered, leaving him at the mercy of Marcus's hospitality. If Marcus had any dire plans for Hiccup and Toothless, this would be a great time to implement them. But if Hiccup had really thought that was a possibility, he wouldn't have sent the squad away.<p>

Marcus gave Hiccup a wave as he entered the tent, Toothless planting himself just outside the opening to act as guard dragon. The tent was devoid of other people, Random off doing whatever Random did. Hiccup took his seat and declined another mug of dark bitter, considering how disagreeable his stomach became after the first mug.

"Your wife said her goodbyes and left," said Marcus. "I was afraid that you were following her, but she told me that you were staying."

"Astrid has other matters to attend to," said Hiccup. Not exactly a lie, since she did have patrols to undertake. "I do have my doubts, Marcus, but I trust that you're not out to kill me or anything."

Marcus's smile widened at Hiccup's words. "I'll take that as a vote of confidence. But what of these others doubts?"

Hiccup sat back in his chair, trying his best to look casual without looking _too_ casual. "For starters, I can't say I'm thrilled about you making weapons. I'm all about peace, not war."

"And yet you've been part of several major battles in the last few years."

Hiccup couldn't stop a frown from forming on his lips. "That doesn't mean I like fighting. I've done it to save lives, every single time."

Marcus leaned forward in his chair and pointed right at Hiccup. "Exactly. You do it to _save_ lives. I'm the same way. My dragon-sticks are the tools of peace, not war."

Hiccup added a raised eyebrow at the mention of the name. "Dragon-sticks?"

Marcus shrugged. "The name's a work in progress. I thought about calling them boom sticks, but that just seems too corny."

"I'd stay with dragon-sticks for now," said Hiccup. "But regardless of what you call them, how do you figure your weapons will actually keep the peace?"

Marcus sat back again, adopting the posture of a teacher with a lesson to teach. "Why is it that piracy never goes away? Because there are always easy targets, undefended villages and settlements and traders just trying to stay alive. Why is there always a warlord running around conquering people? Again, easy targets, but also because conquered people give you resources. But what if we made all the easy targets difficult? What if we made war so terrible that no amount of conquest could make up for the cost in blood and treasure?"

Hiccup thought about it and said, "So your idea is that if everyone has these weapons, no one will want to fight for fear of getting nasty holes blown through them?"

Marcus nodded. "Precisely. I don't plan on selling my weapons to just anyone, Chief Hiccup. Only to people who need the protection. That is why I need you and your dragons. To mass-produce my weapons, I need a lot more supply. I only have access to a dozen dragons, all of whom are treated humanely but are… difficult to work with at times."

"A dragon that's caged up is difficult to work with," said Hiccup, trying to not sound accusatory.

"The dragons at my disposal are not imprisoned, Chief Hiccup," reassured Marcus. "But their personal histories are… tragic. They are not fit to rejoin the wild, and they prefer to stay in our company, though they have great distrust toward humans. To earn their keep, they give us their combustion gas. I promise you that no harm has ever come from our treatment of them."

Hiccup was unconvinced on this point, but it was one reservation in a sea of reservations. "Let's go back to your plan to 'arm the innocent.' What would stop the innocent from selling your weapons to other, let's say, unsavory folk, or having their weapons get stolen?"

"Undoubtedly, some weapons will find their way into the wrong hands. But by the time that happens, the peaceful communities will be well armed and able to defend themselves. The balance of power will shift."

Hiccup found that frown of his returning. "You're trusting that peaceful communities will stay peaceful once they get a hold of these dragon-sticks."

Marcus's smile faltered for once. "Look at where things stand now, Chief Hiccup. The people who make the North Sea their home live in fear of raiders and pirates and other aggressors. They pray to their gods that they'll be overlooked, because if they get attacked they have no chance of victory. They have to fork over their worldly goods and suffer indignities… and those are the lucky ones. I know you are aware of this, for the tales of a black dragon and his rider protecting the innocent have made their way to my ears. You don't turn a blind eye to their plight, but you are one man with one dragon, and you can't be everywhere. The raiders still come, and the people still suffer."

Hiccup found himself stumped for once. He knew quite well how many problems the people of the coast and the Mainland had. Even though he was doing his best to keep Berk out of it, he just couldn't stop himself from trying to help. One man and one dragon could scare away a few raiders, but Marcus was right – he couldn't stop them all. But was the answer to give everyone a lot of firepower? It didn't seem like a good idea.

Marcus saw the consternation in Hiccup's eyes, and he pressed the point. "I've heard something disturbing recently. Dragons have been attacking communities along the coast of the Mainland, and some say they might even have riders. I don't believe for a second they're coming from your village, but I don't think it matters where they come from. You know better than anyone the damage that dragons can do."

It was the wrong argument to make. Hiccup angrily glared at Marcus. "Dragons don't attack villages without reason, without someone forcing them to. They're innocent in all this!"

"I know this, Hiccup," replied Marcus, not at all apologetic about his statement. "I have my own experiences with dragons. How do you think I became such an expert in combustion gas?"

Hiccup forced himself to calm down. He was here to learn about Marcus, not start a dragon advocacy club. "I was working my way toward that question. Didn't want to seem too… nosy. But if I'm going to consider any deals with you, I need to know more of your history."

Hiccup expected reluctance from Marcus, even outright refusal, considering that the sum total of their acquaintanceship was a few hours. Instead, he nodded in agreement. "Of course you would want to know more. In your boots, I would ask the same thing. If it helps to sell you on my idea, if you desire to understand where I'm coming from… then I have a story to tell you."

He went silent for a long time, a faraway look in his eyes. He got up from his seat and paced for another few moments, apparently having trouble finding a place in his memories to start. When he stopped and looked back at Hiccup, the debonair part of Marcus had submerged and a far more haunted Marcus had surfaced.

"Have you ever heard the name Drago Bloodfist?" he asked.

Hiccup searched his mind for a match to the name and came up empty. "Not ringing any bells."

"Then I envy you," replied Marcus. "Most who know the name regret the knowledge. He was a man that put the _war_ in _warlord_. I never learned where he came from, but I doubt he was a native of the North. He was ruthless and obsessed with power, and he commanded an armada driven toward one goal – capturing dragons and turning them into his personal shock troops."

Hiccup smirked at the description of the so-called warlord. "Yeah, I knew a guy like that. He didn't get very far in the dragon-army department."

Marcus's haunted look didn't abate for an instant. "Drago _did,_ and I fully believe that he would've succeeded in creating an unstoppable army… had events not played out differently."

The way Marcus spoke made Hiccup feel like a freak winter storm had entered the tent, and his smirk faded quickly. There were no fond remembrances here – even the memory of Drago frightened Marcus.

"And I'm assuming you know all this because you worked for him, correct?" asked Hiccup.

"Correct," Marcus confirmed solemnly. "It's not something I'm proud of. I served under him for several years, right up to the day that he encountered something far worse than him… and paid the price for his arrogance."


	8. A Warlord, A Cave, And Something Else

**Chapter Seven: A Warlord, A Cave, and Something Else**

"Not that I know you all that well," said Hiccup, "but you don't strike me as the work-for-an-evil-warlord type."

"I never imagined it, either," replied Marcus, "until the day that I met Drago. _Imposing_ is too weak a word to describe him. Most people fear dragons and keep a safe distance from their mouths, but he could walk right up to a wild one, demand its attention, and then force it to bow before him. It was more impressive when you realized he was missing his left arm, though he wore a special prosthetic to hide the fact."

Hiccup found himself instinctively glancing at his own metal foot. Perhaps the price of dealing with dragons was a pound of flesh. He didn't like the comparison and quickly moved it out of mind.

"He was as demanding of his men as he was of the dragons he captured," continued Marcus, "and his reputation was lethal. Most men who worked for him did so because they had few other options, or because they shared his ambition, or simply because they didn't want to be on the wrong side – the side opposite of Drago. To give you some idea, this is a man who once tried to unite the Viking tribes of the North by calling a summit of chiefs, intending to 'convince' the tribal leaders of the wisdom of his plans. According to Drago, they didn't go for it… so he had them removed with a surprise dragon ambush. There were no survivors."

This story was getting worse by the minute. Hiccup was now quite glad that he never met this psycho. Funny that his dad never mentioned him. You'd think a story involving the deaths of a bunch of chiefs would've made it into one of his speeches about chiefly duties, particularly the speech telling you to be careful about which meetings you attend.

"Personally, I fell into the 'no choice' category of recruitment," said Marcus. "I was working in a blacksmith shop when Drago came into my village looking for supplies. He saw my handiwork and became impressed with my engineering aptitude. He offered me a job working with him to design his dragon-capturing devices. Saying no to Drago was considered hazardous to your health, so I joined him. I spent the next seven years creating different kinds of traps for him, and I managed to please him just enough to keep my head. I also worked on my combustion-gas idea on the side, a project I didn't want to share with Drago until I knew it wouldn't explode in his face.

"As the years passed, I got moved out of the workshop and onto dragon-hunting trips so I could maintain the equipment on the spot. That's how I met a man named Eret, a warrior who specialized in hunting dragons. We started off trading insults about how I cared more about dragon traps than dragons, or how he had more muscles than brains, but eventually we came to see each other as friends, and I spent most of my time with his crew, searching islands or setting up ambushes in front of caves. It worked for me, because the more time I was at sea, the less time I spent with Drago. Eret probably saved my life, because the longer you spent with Drago, the more likely he'd find something about you that displeased him, and he _always_ got rid of his displeasures.

"Right about my sixth year in Drago's service, something changed in him. He became more obsessed with capturing dragons than ever before… and less tolerant of mistakes. He began requiring quotas for his hunting crews, and he punished them for failures outside of their control. This was about the time that dragons began growing scarcer, and those dragons that we did locate kept finding ways around our traps. We never did figure out why it was happening, but Drago was more than happy to throw blame out to everyone around him, including me. He thought my traps weren't cutting it any longer and that I was falling down on the job. Eret used to joke that I was the brains of the outfit and he was the brawn, and because of that I would be the first on the chopping block if we screwed up, because brains always went first. I never found the joke funny, but I came to believe that my days were numbered.

"Fortune has its crazy ways, though, and fortune found a way to save me, but not in a way that I ever imagined… or desired. I was approaching my seventh year of service when Drago caught wind of a local legend, the tale of an island far to the northeast that housed a mammoth cave, wherein lived a creature of such frightening size and power that none who met it survived. Descriptions of the creature were varied and contradictory; some thought it a dragon, others a devil. You hear these kinds of myths all the time in our business, and as dragon hunters you take myths with a grain of salt, but Drago was convinced that this particular myth was worth pursuing. I never understood what drove him, I was too afraid to ask. But he decided to take our entire armada to the island. He even had ships stop at villages along the way to recruit more men. Whatever this creature was, he wanted it for his army, and if he couldn't sway it, he would destroy it."

"Why was he so obsessed with controlling dragons?" said Hiccup. "Come to think of it, _how _did he control them? Dragons respond to kindness, not belligerence, and your old boss sounds about as kind as a rogue wave."

"To your first question, I don't know. Childhood trauma, perhaps. Or maybe he just saw them as the only real competition to his ambition. To your second question… I'm getting to that. Rest assured that Drago was not as insane as you might think."

Marcus took a drink of his mug and decided to sit down again, as if preparing himself for the next part of the story. "When we finally reached the island, I could already tell that the myth was wrong on several fronts. Most notably, we'd been told there was a humongous cave, but it was actually a massive pit right in the center of the island. Despite the snow piles and ice covering the whole of the island, somehow this pit remained uncovered dirt and rock, as if the snow was afraid to fall there. There were no steam vents or any signs of volcanic activity, only a constant vibration that could make your teeth ache if you clenched them for too long. There was wrongness to the region, an unnatural quality that you could almost taste. The more superstitious of us thought we had found a door to Hell, and there would have been a panic right then and there if Drago hadn't declared a death sentence to any deserters.

"We assembled on the snowy beach in front of the pit, laid out dozens of traps, built up our catapults and ballistae, and fortified our positions with barricades and cover. We were prepared for all-out war, and though we had to have created quite the racket, no creature stirred from the pit to come greet us. We held our positions for a solid day, awaiting any sign of life to fly into or crawl out of that blasted pit, and we might have waited there to this day if Drago so ordered it, but Drago's patience wasn't what it used to be. Though he had the sense not to send a scouting expedition into the pit, he wasn't content to let the battle commence on the creature's timetable.

"_I will have this dragon before the day is done_, Drago declared to us, and he brought out his supply of firebombs for the catapults. I was sitting in a ditch with Eret in the rear portion of the army, Eret commenting about how much money we were wasting on this fool's errand, while we watched flaming round after flaming round sail through the air and into the pit. The bombardment continued for a whole hour. Drago must have used up his entire supply of firebombs, and his only reward was to set the interior of the pit aflame. There were wisps of smoke curling out of the pit, but no other reaction.

"Not one for looking the fool, Dragon was in no mood to hear backtalk from his subordinates. When he overheard one of his men sneering about Drago finally losing it, he immediately had the man's throat in his right hand. Drago literally dragged the man to the lip of the pit, stating that he thanked the poor soldier for his service and that he appreciated his willingness to sacrifice for the cause. One good shove and the soldier disappeared into the pit, screaming all the way down until his scream abruptly stopped.

"_That _actually did the trick. The vibration in the ground intensified, doubled, tripled. The echoes of crunching rock came to our ears as something began climbing its way up out of the pit. Drago's army tensed up like a pulled bowstring, ready to strike as soon as the creature showed its face. Satisfied with himself, Drago raced back to safer ground, awaiting the arrival of his newest conquest. So sure of himself in this matter that he didn't even bother to prepare an exit strategy. The quickest way back to the ships was blocked by a row of siege weapons; we had cut off our own escape."

Marcus stopped right as the story was getting to the big reveal, choosing to look at his boots rather than continue. Hiccup definitely wanted him to go on, even though it was obvious that nothing good was about to happen, but he didn't want to push Marcus into getting upset. The past wasn't as important as the here-and-now.

"Look," said Hiccup, "if this is too hard for you, we can save it for another day."

Marcus's head came back up, his eyes staring at Hiccup as if he had insulted his mother somehow. "No, Chief Hiccup, I… only need a moment." He relaxed again, though his eyes remained haunted. "I need you to understand why I want to do this, why I need your help. You know of men like Drago and what they can do, but there are other things as well. Things that live in the recesses of the world, hidden from us, perhaps sleeping, perhaps plotting, and one day they may emerge and go on a sight-seeing tour… only to find us living on their favorite turf."

"I've… met one of them," said Hiccup, trying to lighten the mood. "It didn't turn out too badly. And while I'm sure that whatever dragon you encountered looked really monstrous, that doesn't make it…"

"This was no dragon, Chief Hiccup!" blurted out Marcus. "I don't know what it was. When it came out of the hole, it was wreathed in some kind of shroud made entirely of flame. It was massive, not as big as a Leviathan-class dragon, but plenty intimidating. The fire field obscured most of its body, though I'm certain it had four legs and a tail and lengthy wings of some kind. Looking at it was like looking into the fiery heart of darkness itself, the flames twisting and jetting about like they were alive. It stood right between the pit and Drago's army for a time, in no rush to evict us from its island. I had the feeling that it was sizing us up, seeing how much trouble we were worth. I don't think it was impressed.

"The lead men did the sensible thing and ran for their lives, but Drago kept the rest of the army in position with his overbearing nature and hideous threats. I think he felt as much horror as we did at the sight of the creature, and that made him angry… and reckless.

"He gave the signal, and seconds later every catapult and ballista in the army was launching every manner of projectile at it. Most of them hit – none did any good. The projectiles melted, exploded, or bounced off the fire field like it was solid. Arrows burned into ash in the blink of an eye. It just stood there and took everything we dished out. Not once did I see it flinch.

"Then it reciprocated with not one, but _two_ great gouts of fire, literal streams of flame that lashed out from behind the fire shield. The streams targeted our siege weapons, reducing them to flaming wrecks in seconds, their crews fleeing for their lives. If that wasn't bad enough, a concentrated blast of wind erupted from the creature, a mini-tornado directed at the lead soldiers. It blew apart fortification after fortification, flinging men and debris into the air like they were little more than autumn leaves. Not content with three separate attacks, the creature added a new one, a liquid stream of dark-green acid that melted our strongest iron upon contact. It kept this vile attack for the traps we had planted, reducing them to steaming slag that it stepped on or over, advancing its way toward the heart of our army and our ships.

"Drago kept screaming at his men to hold the line, but everyone else could tell it was a total rout. The men completely ignored him as they fled, shoving and jostling one another to get to the ships. By the time Eret and I realized that running for it was the only option for survival, the trails to the ships were jammed up with flaming wreckage and frantic soldiers. Eret's savvy saved me that day, as he had told his crew to park his personal ship away from the main fleet… you know, in case of trouble. So we fled through a separate trail along with as many men as were willing to follow us.

"Halfway to Eret's ship, I chanced a backward glance and witnessed Drago screaming towards the sea, a call to summon his greatest asset. The waters quivered and parted as from under the ocean came the true source of Drago's power – a Bewilderbeast, his Alpha. He sent it right at…"

"Wait, what a what?" interrupted Hiccup.

Marcus looked surprised at his confusion. "A Bewilderbeast. You know, huge, aquatic, looks like an elephant seal's butt-ugly dad."

"Uh…" Hiccup had honestly never heard of such a thing. No mention of it in any Viking stories, not even in the hypothetical section of the Dragon Manual. "That is definitely a new one on me."

"Huh," said Marcus, intrigued by Hiccup's ignorance. "I assumed you knew about Bewilderbeasts and other Alphas."

"Oh, yeah, Alphas… are… something to do with…" Hiccup sighed and gave up trying. "Okay, I give up. What's an Alpha?"

"And here I thought I was playing catch-up to you," said Marcus, obviously amused at having the informational advantage. "Alphas are special dragons that can command other dragons, bend them to its will like puppets on strings. It's a very rare talent. The Alpha that Drago had under heel he had found as a hatchling, and he cruelly trained it to do his bidding. Normally it stayed under the ocean, pulling our ships to Drago's desired destinations and staying out of sight. Based on what stories I've heard, the dragon you fought five years ago, Red Death, sounds like another Alpha."

Hiccup winced at the mention of the giant dragon he and Toothless had destroyed all those years ago, but not for any traumatic reasons. The battle with Red Death had been intense, and it ultimately cost Hiccup his left foot, but the revelations that came two years later were the ones that robbed Hiccup of his peace of mind. Red Death had once gone by the name of Latimar, and he had been a Hyperion, one of the more noble ones in fact. Latimar had been the victim of a traitorous necromancer, reduced to an animalistic mindset that cared only about feeding. The dragon might have been the sole reason that Berk had suffered three centuries of dragon attacks, but in the end Red Death had been just as much a victim. Hiccup no longer saw anything heroic in having killed the mountain-sized dragon, and he really wished people would stop bringing it up.

This Alpha business intrigued him, though. During the months that Hiccup had spent in the company of Archibald, they had talked at length about Latimar, his history and abilities. According to Arc, Latimar wasn't native to this world. He had escaped through a mystical portal from a world being consumed by the Scouring, a nasty entity that had a grudge against all substance in the universe. It seemed to explain why no one had ever seen another dragon like Latimar before – giant dragons generally found it hard to escape notice unless they were hiding in volcanoes… or under the sea, in the case of a Bewilderbeast. Hiccup had asked Arc whether Latimar's dragon-summoning power had been a Hyperion trait or a natural ability, and Arc stated it was the latter. Latimar had always used it sparingly, usually when straits were dire or the matter at hand supremely important. Latimar liked to joke that he'd make Arc loosen up and dance like a drunk human someday, but it was only a joke. Hyperions were immune to Latimar's mind-control power – too juiced up with Ancestor essence to be ensorcelled like that.

Arc never mentioned other dragons having the same power, though. Maybe it was a dirty little secret that Arc didn't want getting around. Maybe Arc and the other Hyperions just didn't care – it couldn't affect them, after all. Maybe it was just so rare that the subject never came up. Was it possible that it was, in fact, an _alien_ ability, and that perhaps Latimar wasn't the only dragon non-indigenous to this world? Could that mean that the origin of all dragons might be…?

"Chief Hiccup?"

Hiccup started, realizing he'd been spacing out through part of Marcus's tale. Marcus stared at him uncertainly, probably worried that he had bored or put off Hiccup with his storytelling. Hiccup cleared his throat and said, "Sorry, I do that sometimes. Lots on my mind. What'd I miss?"

Marcus relaxed again. "Nothing I can't repeat. You sure you don't want another mug of dark bitter? Trust me, it keeps you awake."

"No, thanks, my stomach still hates the first one." A curious thought occurred to Hiccup. "This might sound weird, but did Drago's Alpha talk in any way?"

Marcus looked at Hiccup askance. "A talking dragon? Like in those tales they tell of your exploits down south? Surely that must be fiction." When Hiccup failed to agree with him, Marcus looked genuinely surprised. "Really? Actual talking dragons?"

"Yes, actual talking dragons," said Hiccup, feeling a measure of relief that Marcus still didn't know more about dragonkind than Hiccup. "But it's a long story and we're still in the middle of yours."

"Right." Marcus squared his shoulders and prepared himself for the final leg of his tale. "As I was saying, Drago had his Bewilderbeast emerge from the water to confront the creature. Above its head was a wing of slave dragons under its command. It seemed like an unfair fight, as the Bewilderbeast was twice the size of the creature. Its hide was flame-resistant, and it was too large to be bowled over by wind or acid. Despite my personal disgust of Drago, I felt hope as I saw the Bewilderbeast breathe on the creature. A Bewilderbeast's breath is pure, intense cold, powerful enough to flash-freeze a dozen dragons on the spot. The creature's fire shield couldn't possibly prove a match for it."

"But it did," said Hiccup.

"It did," Marcus confirmed. "In fact, the ice blast didn't even connect with the shield. It evaporated into steam right before it. The other dragons opened fire as well, but their fireballs did nothing. Drago ordered a concentrated attack from all his dragons at once, but the result was the same. The creature didn't even seem fazed by the assault, and it casually knocked the flying dragons from the air with its wind attack. Twin gouts of flame lit into the Bewilderbeast's side, singeing it but barely making a dent in the massive dragon's hide. It seemed that all that had been gained was an impasse, though the dragon did buy time for some of the men to get to safety.

"But then the creature brought out its newest weapon, one that I've heard of only in the darkest of legends – black fire. It came out from the shield like a torrent of pure living night, hitting the Bewilderbeast in the side. I had never seen the Bewilderbeast in pain until that day, but it reacted like it had been stabbed in the gut. Its thick hide and protective scales proved useless, and while it did its best to withstand the creature's combined assault, the agony of the black fire proved too much for it, and it abandoned Drago and the rest of the army by fleeing into the sea once more. Where it is now, I do not know."

Hiccup was already finding this story pretty unnerving for lots of reasons, but the mention of black fire unnerved him even further. The only being he'd ever witnessed using black fire was Cervantes, and that guy was into necromancy. Dark magic, indeed. If this creature had that power, then it probably wasn't a dragon. In fact, how could a single dragon have access to four different breath attacks? Hiccup was starting to sway toward Marcus's belief regarding the hidden recesses of the world.

"Eret forced me to continue onward, so I missed much of what happened after," continued Marcus. "We reached his vessel and began to disembark, and as I stood on the deck of Eret's ship I watched as Drago ran down the path toward us, wearing a visage of fear the likes I have never seen in any man. He had finally seen the truth of the matter, the sheer power of the monster he had stirred up, and he was desperate to escape. But the creature sought him out, catching up to him and standing over him like a lion corralling a lamb, the flames of its field eager to claim him. Drago's armor was composed of dragon scales, which afforded him some protection, but only from the fire.

"Then it laughed. The creature… laughed. There could be no mistaking the sound for any other. It was both humanlike and alien, one laugh and several. I sometimes have nightmares where that laugh comes to me out of the dark, as if foretelling that the creature has found me at last and waits for the right time to strike. But on that day, it was laughing at Drago, at his aspirations, at his arrogance, at his inferiority. The last memory I have of Drago was him crying out from underneath the creature as a great gout of black fire found him and ended his life.

"Keep in mind, I do not mourn a man like Drago. But… Eret…" Marcus sighed and closed his eyes, clearly finding the end of the tale painful to recount, hating the part that came next. "The creature saw our ship and came forth to destroy us. We were pushing off and were almost clear of the shore, but we would not get far enough away to escape the creature's flame attacks. Eret saw this certainty, and he chose to put his crew before himself. He grabbed a crossbow, gave me this kind smile that I had seen in his less guarded moments, and jumped to the icy beach. I cried out his name as he ran up the beach toward the creature, but he paid me no heed. He fired one bolt at the creature, and predictably it did nothing, but the distraction worked. Eret ran circles around the creature for a good minute, and to this day I don't know why it felt the need to pursue him. He was good with insults, so he might have hit a nerve, or else the creature found more entertainment in him than in a boatful of fleeing warriors. Regardless, Eret bought us the time we needed to get clear… before the creature ended him as well."

Marcus trailed off after that, and Hiccup nodded his head in sympathy. "Sounds like he was a good man, though in the wrong line of work."

Marcus actually laughed at that. "That it was, Chief Hiccup. That it was. Sometimes I think Eret was the one who should have lived and not I. Perhaps it's just the survivor's guilt talking, but it makes me feel better to think there's a place in the universe where he's still around."

"So after that you decided to go into business for yourself, I take it," said Hiccup.

"More or less. With the armada devastated, I was able to take my share of men, supplies, and a few dragons, mostly the ones too mistreated to survive on their own. Then I ran into Random and she helped me set up my operation. Without her, I'd probably be drowning in debt and working the anvil in some seedy village by now."

"And… the creature?" asked Hiccup, hoping the answer would be to his liking.

Marcus shrugged helplessly. "No idea. It didn't pursue me or the other survivors, if that's what you're asking. I think it went back to its pit to… keep doing whatever it was doing. The island was a long ways away from here, so you don't have to worry about it."

_That's what they all say_, mused Hiccup unhappily. "It's a compelling story, Marcus, but do you really think arming everyone is the best way to handle the Dragos and unstoppable fire-creatures of the world?"

"It's better than standing around and doing nothing," countered Marcus. "And with your help, we can make those Dragos and unstoppable fire-creatures think twice about attacking anyone."

Hiccup gestured outside the tent, toward the demonstration area where Marcus's dragon-stick was on display. "Even if I decided to help you, and I'm not there yet, you have a design problem. That thing is too heavy, and the kick is too strong. I was struggling with just the gas canister. Your average farmer won't be able to use it very well."

Without a word, Marcus got up from his chair and went to the back of the tent. He picked up a polished wooden box the size of a large tome and carried it back to his seat, resting in on his lap. "You're right, that model is for impressing people. You'd need really strong arms or special fortifications to use it effectively. But for your average toiling farmer, we have the compact version."

Marcus opened the lid of the box and extracted a much smaller version of the dragon-stick. This model was less than two feet long and a lot lighter, as Marcus could lift it with little effort. The canister fastened to the underside was a lot smaller as well, which meant less gas and less kick.

"It isn't loaded, and the canister is empty," said Marcus, "but to be on the safe side, never point the tube at anyone you don't want hurt." Marcus then handed it to Hiccup, who proceeded to almost drop it when he misjudged the weight. Hiccup had to use both hands to hold it properly. A more manageable weapon than any axe or club Hiccup had wielded, though it was hard to imagine a squirrel getting scared off at the sight of the thing, much less a warlord.

"If you want, I can show you how to use it," said Marcus. "It doesn't have the power of the bigger dragon stick, but with practice…"

"I'm good, thanks," said Hiccup, giving the weapon back to Marcus. "You can't possibly get many shots out of a canister this small."

"You can't," agreed Marcus. "That's why you have to carry spares." He reached into the box again and pulled out two more objects. One was recognizable as a spare gas canister, which he easily held in the palm of his hand. The other object…

Hiccup did his absolute best to keep the swift kick of shock he just felt from reaching his face and ruining his unruffled façade. Recognition was almost as brutal as a kick to the groin. He had suspicions that he would ultimately find something untoward about Marcus's enterprise… besides the weapon-making and all. But he truly hadn't wanted to find anything. Marcus didn't seem like a bad guy at all, and Hiccup had believed him when he said he wanted to protect people, not hurt them.

But Hiccup couldn't ignore the reality of the round ball bearing about the size of a small pebble in Marcus's hand.

"Small, isn't it?" commented Marcus, noticing Hiccup's interest in the ball bearing. Thankfully, he apparently read Hiccup's reaction as only interest, not shock. "The ammo I use for the bigger weapon is three times as big. With these little guys, anyone can carry a dozen reloads in their pockets. Here, take a look."

He dropped the ball bearing into Hiccup's waiting hand. Hiccup rolled it around in his palm, feeling the weight and texture. It felt about the same, but there was only one way to be sure. He couldn't do it here in front of Marcus, though.

"Can I keep this?" asked Hiccup.

"That?" Marcus said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you have little iron balls where you come from?"

"I… like mementos," said Hiccup, managing not to grimace at his lame excuse.

"Ah, like sea shells or feathers," said Marcus. "I have a collection of rare leaves myself. I'd love to get a few from Berk, if you have the time."

"Uh… certainly," replied Hiccup, feeling the dire need to get some distance between him and Marcus before his host figured out something was up. But he couldn't resist asking what felt like a very pertinent question.

"Have you sold any of these yet?"

Marcus shook his head. "I haven't sold _any_ of these yet. Random and I are making a list of potential clients. As I've said, I want these weapons in the hands of farmers, not raiders."

Hiccup hated hearing that. It meant Marcus was either lying or in the dark about who was getting a hold of his weapons, neither of which were satisfying possibilities. This potential partnership was as unappealing as overcooked cabbage. But he couldn't just up and leave, not when he had evidence linking Marcus to the dragon attacks. Better yet, he needed to keep his relations with Marcus cordial enough to get more information out of him. Hiccup racked his brain for some way to end this meeting without making Marcus suspicious.

Thankfully, his brain was his best asset, and he came up with an idea that might be just brazen and crazy enough to work.

"You know, Marcus," began Hiccup, "I'm starting to think there might be a future for the two of us. It's just…" He did a dramatic pause, trying to seem reluctantly hesitant, that look one gets when there's something you want to do but something is holding you back.

Marcus took that bait, his eyes showing an eagerness for a confirmed deal. "Yes, Chief Hiccup?"

"I care about how your dragons are being treated," Hiccup admitted, which was no lie. "I'll only feel comfortable working with you if I can see their living conditions for myself. Surely you understand my concern."

Marcus nodded and then looked away absently, lost in thought. "Indeed. I would say that's a reasonable request, but I need to keep my base of operations a secret for now. Otherwise I'd have invited you to my island instead of this one… unless…"

"Unless?"

Marcus frowned. "No, it's too much to ask."

"Just ask it. I'm an easy-going kind of chief."

"I could blindfold you and take you on my ship, then return you after you've taken a tour of my facility. But that would require a lot of trust on your part."

Hiccup already knew this was heading into bad-idea territory, but this was an opportunity that he couldn't pass up. "I need to clear it with my village, and I'd like to take some of my people with me…"

"One other person," declared Marcus. "A bodyguard, if you wish. And no dragons."

Yes, this was officially a bad idea. Hiccup still offered his hand to seal the deal. "I think I can live with that."

Marcus smiled and shook Hiccup's hand. "Then go home and make what preparations you need to. Come back here tomorrow morning and I will take you to my island. And I'm willing to bet gold that you'll like what you see."

Hiccup almost took him up on the bet. It would have been the easiest gold he ever made.


	9. Let Hiccup Be Hiccup

**Author's Note: **So we're over the half-way point, FYI. The story should reach its conclusion around the middle of December, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

Onwards.

**Chapter Eight: Let Hiccup Be Hiccup**

It was funny how such a little thing like a ball bearing could wind up being the evidence that condemns a man. Hiccup had two of the things now, and they were pretty condemning. Not exactly one-hundred-percent conclusive, considering that Hiccup's manner of testing them consisted of holding them up to eye level and comparing the two ball bearings to each other, and doing it on the back of a flying Night Fury while the wind whipped at your fingers and the sunlight died in the background didn't make it any easier. But Hiccup was certain that this new evidence was strong enough to get any criminal sent into exile. Too bad that criminal was probably Marcus.

"He's a better salesman than I though," commented Hiccup to his stalwart dragon, who was concentrating on aerial matters and had no idea what Hiccup was talking about. "He said he wants to keep the peace, and I believed him. But this is the same ammo used in the attack on the trade ship. I'm pretty sure it's the same ammo as the ball bearing I got from Tempest Point. If I hadn't been stupid and tossed it, I'd know for sure."

Toothless didn't offer any suggestions on the matter. As advisors for making chiefly decisions, dragons didn't always cut it. Hiccup wasn't sure what to do if he found out conclusively that Marcus was arming raiders. What _could_ he do? Warn Marcus into stopping his business? Destroy his workshop?

Kill him?

The thought of such summary execution make Hiccup's stomach curdle again. Actually, to be fair, his stomach was doing that already, and a bit worse than before. Sheesh, what was in that drink Marcus gave him? It was the only thing he'd eaten in Marcus's company, and it felt like it was trying to wallop him from the inside. _Mental note: keep dark bitter off the menu in the future. _

"This kind of thing was easier to deal with when it was just me," he mused aloud. "I could let Dad handle the tough choices. Now I have to make them. For all I know, Marcus hasn't done anything wrong to anyone… but I can't let these weapons keep falling into the wrong hands, either."

Toothless kept up the silent treatment, more intent on what was up ahead. Usually Toothless gave a waggle or a happy growl of support to Hiccup when he got moody. Tonight, he acted distracted by something only his dragon eyes could pick out. Hiccup strained his own eyes into the growing gloom ahead, but couldn't find much to worry about. There was the murky silhouette of Berk in the distance, only a half-hour away and already putting up beacon lights. Arriving home late again – Astrid was going to be quite…

Wait a sec. There were other forms in the air ahead. Indistinct at first, they grew larger the closer Toothless got to Berk, meaning they were hovering in place or coming directly at Toothless. While the dark offered them a cloak of obscurity, Hiccup could make out the basic forms of dragons, mostly Nadders and Nightmares with a Zippleback thrown in for good measure. All dragons indigenous to Berk, and about a dozen of them. He also noticed the bodies of riders on the backs of each dragon, so this was no wild pack of sightseeing reptiles.

"Those are manned dragons, all right," commented Hiccup. "Maybe Astrid got worried and decided to send a rescue party to come get me. Well, we go by and tell them…"

Hiccup felt Toothless shake his head in denial. The dragon could see a lot better than Hiccup could in the dark. Toothless didn't seem to think that the dragon party ahead was a friendly one.

Either the wind chill suddenly got arctic, or else Hiccup's body temperature was a step ahead of his mind. Surely this couldn't be what he thought it was, could it? The raiders couldn't be dumb enough to come this close to Berk. Besides, if this was some kind of ambush, they'd have to have known he was coming, and that was impossible…

No, not impossible. Not if Marcus had set this up somehow. Not if Marcus had arranged their meeting place so that the raiders would know what direction he was coming from on his way back to Berk. Then again, maybe these riders were just Berkians out for a night flight. It happened on occasion.

A loud _pop!_ from one of the dragons ruined that idea forever. Something fast whizzed through the air above Hiccup's head, followed by several more in kind as the other riders opened fire. These bangs were much quieter than the bang from Marcus's demonstration weapon, but otherwise the nature of their weapons was undisputable.

"Toothless, dive!" Hiccup ordered, and immediately Toothless… did nothing but keep flying straight ahead, right toward the raider gang.

"Toothless, DIVE!" he insisted. Again, Toothless ignored him, choosing instead to shake his head like he was throwing off a swarm of stinking bugs.

"Bud?" Hiccup patted Toothless's head, desperate to get his attention. Another volley of pops rang out in the air ahead of him, and Hiccup heard the deadly whines of the projectiles grow louder this time. Their aim was improving. Toothless was still flying right at them, and the fading sky behind him was making him a viable target.

Toothless's zoned-out disposition was starting to feel very familiar, and Hiccup noticed the Night Fury's ears twitching rapidly, as if focused on a sound that only Toothless could hear. The last time he'd seen behavior like that was during the whole Red Death/Latimar encounter. The mountain-sized dragon had sent out a signal commanding obedience to other dragons, including Toothless, though only in terms of feeding the massive dragon all the food from everywhere. Whatever this sound was, it was putting Toothless into a complacent state, almost like it was drawing him in.

Marcus's words about Alphas came back to him, as well as the fact that there might be a giant sea dragon out in the wild with a mind-controlling whistle and an axe to grind. But a giant dragon would've been plenty obvious to spot, and none were around. What _was_ around were twelve well-armed raiders on dragons, and in a few more seconds he'd be right on top of them, at point-blank range.

Desperation makes for unnatural ideas, and Hiccup was feeling plenty desperate at the moment. He did the only thing that made sense – he stuffed his hands into Toothless's ears, plugging them as tightly as he could.

Toothless finally reacted like a proper dragon, shaking his head wildly to get the obstructions out of his ears. Hiccup held on tightly, praying that Toothless would come to his senses before the raiders could finish reloading. Much to Hiccup's relief, the thrashing ended quickly, Toothless looking back at Hiccup with one eye, clearly confused as to why Hiccup had his hands in his ears.

"DOWN, TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup yelled, nodding his head violently to get the point across. "DIVE!"

After five years of flying together, Toothless had learned to trust Hiccup not to steer him wrong, especially when he was _this_ upset. Toothless took one look at the dozen dragons ahead of him and went straight away into a dive. For good measure, he lobbed a short range plasma bolt right at the raider group, the fireball exploding right in their midst, the blast of heat and fire and light blinding the men and their mounts enough to stymie their next volley for a few seconds. When they did let fly again, they easily missed by a mile, Toothless speeding under the raiders and then away from them, the darkness now favoring him and his black-scaled outline.

Hiccup kept his hands stuffed in Toothless's ears as he looked over his shoulder, watching to see what the raiders did. Oddly enough, the dragons didn't bother to give chase, choosing to stay in formation and watch their prey escape. Almost like they knew better than to come after him. Maybe they _couldn't _come after them, not if their own dragons were being affected by some kind of mesmerizing dragon-only music.

Hiccup told Toothless he'd done good, but that he'd wasn't taking his hands out of the dragon's ears until they got closer to Berk. Toothless understood this and didn't complain… much. Hiccup hated the idea of leaving the raiders behind to retreat and cause misery elsewhere, but until he understood what had caused Toothless to go catatonic on him, it was the only sane thing to do. Besides, he had a feeling that Marcus would lead him to the raiders. This attack was way too convenient to not be connected to the enterprising arms manufacturer.

* * *

><p>Hiccup expected to have to rouse the village from its slumber and inform everyone of the newest peril added to their lives, but the village was extremely awake and frantic as he flew in, Vikings running to their defense posts and their dragons, looking fearfully to the sky and awaiting an attack of some kind. A few of the old night torches were alight as well, as if people were anticipating a dragon attack. They had probably heard of the dragon raiders from the traders, and considering how quickly tales and rumors could spread across the small village, Hiccup couldn't blame his people for reverting to old habits.<p>

He didn't even get a chance to land before Beatrix was flying besides him, a rather relieved Astrid astride her. "Thanks the Gods, Hiccup. We heard a whole storm of those thunder-pops the traders mentioned and the village started freaking out like it was the Dragon War all over again. Are you okay?"

"Pretty much," said Hiccup. "We have a lot to talk about, Astrid, but first I better get the village under control. You collect Gobber and the gang and meet me in the Great Hall. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Over an hour later, the village was in a better state of wariness, with sentries posted at all the lookout points around the village and everyone else returning to their homes, though most kept their weapons and dragons at the ready. Hiccup had all dragons grounded for the night, since there was too much chance of friendly fire with the villagers as riled up as they were. The possibility of a new era of dragon attacks did not sit well with the public.

Hiccup had yet to mention his other fear: how there was something out there that could mesmerize dragons and that the raiders had access to it. Sending dragons out to search for the attackers could backfire severely. For now, the village would play it safe.

Hiccup spent the majority of the next hour enjoying the relative safety of the Great Hall and recounting his talk with Marcus to Astrid, Gobber, and the rest of the Dragon Squad. He included Marcus's lengthy tale about his service to Drago Bloodfist. Gobber had all the blood in his face drain away at the mention of the name. Hiccup could have done without Gobber's scary reaction to the name, but at least it proved that Drago wasn't a figment of Marcus's imagination.

"Now there's a man I am not sorry to see gone from this world," said Gobber. "Your father actually went to that summit, Hiccup. Only one who survived it, mostly because Drago left him for dead."

Now it was Hiccup's blood that did the face-fleeing act. "Wow, really? Why didn't you guys mention that before?"

Gobber gave him a tired glare. "Lad, trust me, it's hard to bring up scary men like Drago in casual conversations. We were just happy he went elsewhere to wreck havoc."

It still didn't make sense to Hiccup, and he said so. "It would've been nice to know there were insane warlords out there, so that I didn't blunder into him while flying around."

"Hiccup, can we focus on more immediate matters?" said Astrid. "Like the very alive and very dangerous raiders that almost killed you tonight?"

Hiccup had to admit that she was right, and he choked off any further questions regarding the wisdom of holding back dangerous information from your kids. "I still think Marcus is the key. Those dragon-sticks the raiders were using were the small kind, like the one Marcus showed me. He _has_ to be supplying them, which means we have to find his base, figure out his plans, and shut him down."

"Are you sure you didn't recognize any of the riders?" asked Astrid.

Hiccup shook his head. "Too dark. Why?"

Astrid shrugged. "Guess I'm hoping that Alvin is behind this somehow and that he'd show himself."

Fishlegs's eyes grew fearful at mention of Alvin's name. "Why would you want that?"

"It would explain how they learned to ride dragons," she replied. "If he finally figured out how to do it after all these years, he could be sharing the knowledge."

"Doesn't sound like something to hope for," said Hiccup.

"At least we'd know what we're up against," she replied.

"How could Alvin suddenly learn to ride dragons?" asked Ruffnut. "Last I checked, he was really bad at it."

"Maybe he has a twin brother who's a lot smarter," suggested Tuffnut.

"Well, if _I _don't have one of those, why would he?" shot back Ruffnut.

"Personally, I think we're overreacting," stated Snotlout, looking more his usual disgruntled self. As disappointed as Hiccup was to have Marcus turn out to be a bad guy, Snotlout seemed to be displaying plain old denial.

"Seriously, how do we know that Marcus gave them these weapons?" he continued. "Maybe they stole them, or maybe someone else is making them for the raiders, or…"

"Or nothing, Snotlout," countered Astrid, giving him a disapproving glare. "All the clues we have point to Marcus."

"I agree," said Gobber, holding up the two ball bearings Hiccup had gathered, one from the damaged trader ship and one from Marcus's own hand. "These little darlings have the same ore type and the same craftsman's hand. A good smith puts their heart into their work. They develop a style, a flair if you will."

"Really?" asked Hiccup. "What's my style?"

"Outside the box." Gobber's smiling answer came very easily.

"I still think we need to give Marcus the benefit of the doubt," insisted Snotlout. "If we get it wrong and blame Marcus for something he didn't do, we'll blow the deal of a lifetime."

"Deal of a lifetime?" said Astrid, glaring at him. "He's making weapons, Snotlout. Even if Marcus somehow proves innocent, I don't think Berk should be associated with that kind of thing."

Snotlout glared right back. "Oh, sure, it's fine for you. You have your fancy magic axe. What about the rest of us?"

"Guys, stop!" Hiccup commanded, giving both Astrid and Snotlout dirty looks. "Let's first figure out what Marcus is up to. We'll deal with the rest of it when we fly over that bridge. I'll be going to his island tomorrow, so I should know for sure…"

"About that, Hiccup," said Astrid, "I can't be the only one who thinks this is a really, really, _bad_ idea. I'm not talking stupid-crazy, as your plans usually are. I mean _bad._"

"I'm with her, lad," said Gobber, counting off the problems on his good hand. "No dragons, no backup, no idea of where you're going, and if they catch on that you're not onboard with their plans, they'll make you disappear."

"But it's all we got," defended Hiccup. "Think about it. These raiders are getting bolder and attacking more frequently. The attacks on the trade ship and on the village of Goose Duck were only the beginning. If we don't stop them soon…"

"Wait a sec," said Astrid, picking up on a piece of new information in Hiccup's speech. "What attack on what village?"

It then occurred to Hiccup that he had unconsciously withheld a bit of information from everyone, especially Astrid. He tried not to look too guilty about it. He did not succeed. "Uh… remember my day off, where I went flying and pirate-hunting? I also stopped by Tempest Point and heard a tale about a village called Goose Duck getting attacked by dragons shooting the same ammo. The attack happened over a week ago."

Astrid glared at him, the disapproval in her eyes even stronger than her disapproval toward Snotlout. "And you didn't think this was important to tell us… or me?"

"I didn't think it was important for Berk," he replied, feeling withered under Astrid's unhappy eyes. "But it's doesn't really matter now, does it? If we're going to stop these raiders, I still have to go with Marcus."

"No, you don't," said Astrid. "Not by yourself. Not without help."

"I'll go along," said Snotlout. "Marcus said he could bring a bodyguard."

Astrid took a quick glance at Snotlout, then turned back to Hiccup. "Like I said, not without _help_."

"What do you suggest, Astrid?" Hiccup replied. "Marcus won't sail if we have our dragons following him in the air. This is my call, Astrid."

"I have a thought, though," piped up Fishlegs, raising his hand to get everyone's attention. "We might not be able to keep an eye on Marcus's ship, but we might be able to track it."

Happy to have the attention off him for a change, Hiccup said, "Track it how?"

Eager to sell his idea, Fishlegs pulled out the copy of the Dragon Manual in his hands and flipped through it until he found his desired entry. When he laid it on the table for everyone to see, it was opened to the Frightmare listing. Hiccup recalled that dragon quite well, an ornery and solitary beast that would rampage through Berk every decade or so. That is, until Hiccup, Astrid, and Fishlegs were able to divert it to the open sea a few years ago. It turned out the Frightmare subsisted on a type of glowing algae that showed up on the island every ten years, and it was only being protective of its food source.

"Remember the algae the Frightmare feeds on?" said Fishlegs. "I've been growing some of it on my own."

"Um… why?" asked Snotlout. The blank looks he got from the rest of the group indicated they were also mystified by this disclosure.

"I thought we might use it to make night flights less dangerous," Fishlegs explained. "Dragons glow in the dark when they drink it. And turns out it's really easy to grow, because all you have to do is…"

"That's fascinating, Legs," said Hiccup. "But how does it help us with tracking Marcus's ship?"

"I was thinking that we could get a waterproof sack, fill it with algae, and attach it to his ship. Then make a tiny hole in the sack so that the algae can leak out slowly. It'll spread into the water and leave a trail in the ship's wake. Then at night, the algae will glow, allowing us to follow the ship."

The next batch of looks he got were a lot more intrigued, except for Snotlout, who was already dismissing it by saying, "As fun as glow-in-the-dark algae might be, I think Marcus might get wise to us if we nail a bag full of algae to his ship."

"That's why we'll attach it underwater," said Fishlegs. "I've been teaching Chomps to swim. She still only dragon-paddles, but she can hold her breath for a long time. The two of us can swim behind the ship before it leaves, and no one will suspect a thing."

"Huh," said Gobber, moderately impressed with the idea. "And here I thought that algae was only good for hiding the stains on my undies."

"Legs, I'm liking your idea," said Hiccup. "Can you get two bags ready to go by tomorrow morning?"

Fishlegs nodded happily. "Two bags coming right up," and he left the table to gather the algae.

"So it's settled, then," said Hiccup. "Astrid, you and the squad will have to stay at Cheek Bite Island until nightfall, but then you'll be able to track the ship and come find us."

"I still don't like this, Hiccup," said Astrid. "Even if I can follow you, there's still a lot that could go wrong."

"Isn't it _always_ that way, Astrid?" joked Hiccup. "Besides, I can't be in too much danger. I'll have Snotlout with me."

"Really?" said Snotlout, surprised at the idea. "You're taking me along?"

"Mostly because Random likes you for some reason," said Hiccup. "We need honey more than vinegar right about now." He turned to Gobber and added, "And I need you here, looking after things while I'm gone."

Gobber laughed ruefully. "You know, every time Stoick said something like that, part of me was always afraid that he'd never come home again. Good thing he always did." Then he gave Hiccup a serious, almost fatherly, look of concern. "You better not break my winning streak, lad."

* * *

><p>After concluding the meeting and sending everyone home, Hiccup knew what was coming next. Rather than run for the door and get tackled by Astrid, he decided to patiently sit and wait for Astrid, who was also sitting and waiting, to say something. Hiccup wasn't sure which Astrid he was going to get this time, Angry Astrid or Disappointed Astrid or What-Were-You-Thinking Astrid, but he'd seen them all and was pretty sure he was prepared for whatever version of Astrid he was about to get.<p>

But she only sat there, staring absently at the table, not a whiff of anger to be found. He found that more disconcerting than if she was yelling or punching. Astrid was a woman that always let you know how she felt – frightening in her anger, but also enlivening in her joy. They had shared a lot over the last five years, and there were no secrets between them. She had to feel a little hurt by his failure to tell her everything.

Maybe she was hurt, but he didn't pick up on it at all when she finally looked at him and said, "I don't get it, Hiccup."

"Which part?" he replied. "The plan? I thought it was pretty straight…"

"I don't get what's going on with you," she clarified. "It's like part of you has just stopped being… Hiccup."

"I don't… what?"

"The Hiccup I know would have found Alvin's disappearance a big deal. The Hiccup I know would've gone searching for those raiders as soon as he heard they had attacked a village… and he would've told me about it. The Hiccup I know sees a world to explore and friends to make and people that need help."

"Astrid, that Hiccup wasn't chief," he stated.

"Being chief doesn't mean you give up who you are, Hiccup," she replied.

"Doesn't it, Astrid?" He got up from his seat and started pacing, feeling his insecurities rising to the surface. "Weren't you saying a couple of days ago that everyone is happy because I'm doing things like my dad? You know, the big Viking who could break rocks with his forehead and who made everyone feel like somebody competent was in charge? Does that sound anything like me?"

"They know you're not your dad, Hiccup, and they still respect you," she insisted.

"Sure, as long as I don't do any of my Hiccup stuff, like tinkering or exploring or saving cities far away from Berk. As long as I don't invite trouble by looking beyond our village, I'm Mr. Popular."

Hiccup swore he could see a light flash behind Astrid's eyes. An epiphany found her, and it must have been a good one, because her whole attitude changed in the blink of an eye. She stood up from her bench and walked over to him, so he couldn't pace away from her any further.

"You still feel bad about yourself, don't you?" she said. "Even after everything you've done, all you've accomplished."

Hiccup looked away, unable to assemble any actual denial in the face of her caring eyes. "It's complicated, Astrid."

"Then explain. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

He sighed and decided to just get it over with. "I do feel good about who I am, Astrid, at least most days. But growing up, all I ever felt from other people was fear. They were afraid of me, Astrid, afraid that I would become the de facto leader of Berk if something happened to Dad, and a three-hundred-year-old village would be reduced to cinders and dragon droppings overnight. And… I believed it. You could only be called a nuisance so many times before you took it to heart. I would've been happy to kill a dragon just so that I didn't get kicked out of the village. Becoming chief? That was impossible."

"I get that, Hiccup," Astrid said gently. "I really do. I hate to admit it, but I didn't think you were chief material, either. Would you like a list of how many things I'm glad to be wrong about, especially when it comes to you?"

"But what if people were right about _this _part of me?" he said. "What if I drag us into a fight we can't win because I can't keep my nose out of other people's business? A chief protects his own, right? That's what I'm trying to do."

Astrid took his head in her hands and forced him to look at her. She gave him one of those great smiles she dons whenever he was at his lowest. "You _do_ protect us, Hiccup. You always have, just not the way your dad did. You befriended a dragon that the rest of us would have killed, and the two of you ended the Dragon War. Think about how many lives you saved doing that. And then you go and befriend a man that the village would have condemned for practicing deviltry, and the two of you stopped an ancient war machine… with some help, of course. And then we went across the continent and joined up with a bunch of colorful characters. And guess what? We saved the world. So you know how to protect your own, Hiccup. The difference between you and your dad, Hiccup, is that you consider _everyone_ your own."

Hiccup tried to smile for Astrid's benefit, considering the wonderful speech she'd given him, but he still wasn't buying all of it. He did manage a half-smile.

"But what if I'm wrong, Astrid?" he said. "What if I make the wrong choices and Berk pays for my mistakes?"

"Then we'll face those mistakes together," she reassured. "I don't expect you to be perfect, Hiccup. But I do expect you to be Hiccup."

His half-smile went full as he pulled her close and hugged her. "I think it'd be easier just to be you. You're already perfect."

Astrid laughed as she embraced him right back. "I wouldn't say that, but… well, actually, feel free to say that anytime you want."

* * *

><p>Despite the preparations that needed to be made for tomorrow's trip, Snotlout found himself wandering out in the night air, unable to think clearly about recent events. He quickly slipped past the sentries on duty around the perimeter of the village and headed toward the closest forest, desiring a spot of solitariness. He would've gotten on Fenrir and flown off if dragon flying was allowed, though he had to agree that it would have been dangerous to try.<p>

Not that wandering around a dark thicket full of nocturnal beasts while there were dragon raiders in the area was much smarter, but he just couldn't stand to be in the village right now, obeying one of Hiccup's edicts. He didn't go very far into the wilds, though – he wasn't that stupid. He settled for a fallen log to rest his rump on and proceeded to sulk about his fortunes once again.

It wasn't fair. He'd been doing everything right – behaving himself, bathing, sweet-talking Hiccup into meeting with Marcus and Random, keeping the worst of his thoughts to himself – and yet it seemed like real wealth and respect was still out of reach, like a trout on a fishing line. Hiccup was pretty much convinced that Marcus was behind these raider attacks, or at least supporting them. After tomorrow, there was a good chance that any deals between the village and Marcus would be faded memories. Even if Marcus turned out to be innocent, Astrid or Gobber or someone else Hiccup actually listened to would tell him to steer clear of combustion-gas weaponry. All his hard work going down the ice hole.

Hiccup wins again, and Snotlout gets nothing.

"Crazy night, huh?"

The girlish shriek that came out of his lungs was not something he could pass off as part of a manly Viking package this time. But his reflexes were still great as he leapt to his feet and whirled around to face the voice that had come out of thin air and right in his ear. The voice did match the person, for Random was standing behind his log, looking much as she had earlier in the day, though her cloak matched the one she'd worn from two days ago.

"Your village seems to be on edge tonight," she stated, offering no explanations for anything. "I hope it's not because of our business meeting today. That would make Marcus ever so sad."

"How…?" Snotlout didn't know where to start on the questions, since question-asking wasn't his thing. "What…? Okay, you were on the island…"

"Don't overtax your brain, Snot-boy," she replied. "I have my means and let's leave it at that."

"Do you have a dragon or something?" he asked.

"What part of 'let's leave it at that' are you having trouble with?" she scolded. "You want partnership or not?"

"Um… yes, sure." Something about the word _partnership_ filled him with lots of bubbly feeling, like being declared the winner at dragon racing… not that he knew how that felt yet. "Does this mean I'm doing good?"

"It means you haven't messed things up," said Random. "Marcus and your chief are getting chummy. It's a step in the right direction. But I also sensed some hesitancy from Hiccup, so I thought I'd stop by and get a read on things. I can't say I'm thrilled with seeing Berk on high alert."

"Oh, that? Pffft. Nothing to do with Marcus. Hiccup got attacked by dragon raiders on the way home."

Random's pretty face didn't betray any emotion, but Snotlout swore he saw her mouth twitch for a second. "That so? Please, do tell me all about it."

To Snotlout's credit, there was a small chunk of his mind that thought this was all too suspicious, even for him. But that chunk was quickly smothered and tucked away as thoughts of wealth and respect regained their proper place in his thinking. So he told Random about the attack, and about the meeting afterwards… and about Hiccup's suspicions and Fishlegs's plan.

Random had little to say afterwards other than telling him to stick with his chief no matter what. Then she said her goodbyes and disappeared into the woods as silently as a specter, leaving Snotlout alone again and not feeling all that happy with himself. That pesky chunk of mind was speaking loudly right now, telling him that he'd said too much and maybe, just maybe, he'd gone too far.

But… _partnership_. Wealth and respect. Getting one up on Hiccup for a change. He could come out of this looking the hero, bringing needed prosperity to Berk. Random couldn't possibly mean the village any harm. She needed their dragons. She needed their cooperation. What could she possibly gain by betraying Snotlout?

And yet that noisy piece of mind would not let up. It pestered him all the way home, and all the way through a sleepless night.

* * *

><p>The docks of Cold Fire Island were lit up with a quartet of bonfire-sized torches, allowing even the dimmest-seeing dragon rider to navigate home, even through the layer of translucent mist that hugged the water this night. The wooden docks were unoccupied save for a pair of guards who had been bribed handsomely to look the other way when needed. Tonight was one of those nights, and they made themselves otherwise scarce whenever a dragon materialized in the sky or walked out of the main workshop. They were paid to be blind, not to be co-conspirators.<p>

From out of the sky came a formation of dragons, each one taking their turn to land on the narrow dock while the rest circled. Within a minute the whole flight was down, a dozen dragons and a dozen riders. The riders dismounted as one, stretching their stiff legs and sore backs. Most of them were inexperienced with mounts of any kind, much less dragons, but they were quickly learning the dos and don'ts of flight. It certainly helped to have dragons as uniquely cooperative as these.

The lead rider did a head count and found every man and dragon accounted for. Another successful flight… in terms of coming back with no losses. The actual objective wasn't met, though the lead rider felt pretty good about it regardless. With a little more planning, a little more experience, and a little more gods-supplied luck, their next encounter with the Dragon Conqueror would be his last.

The leader ordered the men inside and his men followed, walking their mounts toward the workshop's main doors, where their beds and meals awaited them. This was a common enough exercise that the leader's attention was already drifting off toward future endeavors and future mayhem. Oh, won't those cretins in Berk be shocked to see his men flying over their precious island…

WHACK!

The blow to Alvin's forehead caused his grip on his Nightmare's harness to come free as his hands tried to soften his fall to the wood panels under his feet. His posterior took the impact instead. This might have elicited some yucks from the men had A) it not been Alvin, who made it clear that the only laughter allowed around him was from his mouth, and B) they didn't want to attract the attention of the angry-looking purple-haired lady holding the six-foot-long staff in her hands.

"Random, hello," said Alvin, rubbing his forehead. "You're always a pleasure to come home to."

"Can't say the same about you, Alvin," she replied.

Alvin got back to his feet, preparing himself for further "greetings" from Random. "And here I thought you were with Marcus this whole time."

"And here I thought you were the kind of man who didn't indulge in petty revenge," said Random.

Alvin laughed ruefully. "Can you at least tell me which of my men spilled the beans, so I can indulge in some petty revenge that you won't be angry about?"

"None of them, Alvin. I'm _smart_, unlike you."

"You burn me with your words, my lady," said Alvin, feigning mock agony.

"I'll burn you with more than that if you keep this up. You've gotten too careless as of late, Alvin. Because of your erratic and sloppy attacks, Hiccup suspects much, and now he's coming to this island."

Random's words succeeded in knocking the smile off the ex-Outcast's face. "He's coming here? I can think of at least one thing he's not going to like."

"Marcus didn't have a choice. Hiccup insisted on seeing our dragons, and I suspect he wants to see more than that."

"Then I better not be here when he comes," said Alvin, thinking this the optimum solution.

"You are staying right here, Alvin," demanded Random, and she poked him in the chest plate with her pole to emphasize the point. "I will salvage this situation, and you will follow my instructions to the letter, or I will inform our boss of your transgressions, and he will not be pleased."

Alvin glowered at Random while mentally counting sheep jumping off a cliff, all to lower his temper to rational levels. He'd learned a lot of temper-control exercises since joining Marcus and Random. Not every leader of men could accept a lower position in life after commanding a ruthless and feared army, and he thought he was doing pretty well overall, certainly much better than most of the men who used to live on Outcast Island. But this daily berating by Random had gotten old very early, and now it took everything he had not to throttle the life out of her scrawny neck.

Random must have seen the escalating rage within him. She didn't look at all worried about it, but she did remove the staff from his chest and relaxed her posture. "Alvin-boy, I know you've taken a lot of lumps over the years. Constant defeat at the hands of a boy and his dragon, the loss of your men to a powerful warlord, utter failure at finding those ancient war machines you keep going on about – I'd say you've had it rough. But when I found you and your crew adrift in the ocean, half-starved and mad with thirst, I saw lots of potential. I saw a survivor, a guy who gets kicked in the teeth all the time but somehow manages to pick his teeth off the floor and get back in the game. I really don't want to be wrong about you, Alvin. It makes me look bad."

"As long as I can make you look good, I guess it's worth it," said Alvin, the snark thick enough to choke on.

Random ignored his comment and instead gave him a seductive smile. "I can make it _very_ worth it for you, Alvin-boy. If you fly right, pardon the pun, and do exactly as I say from here on out, you'll become one of the most important men in all the North Sea."

Alvin laughed at the notion. "Assuming Hiccup doesn't ruin everything when he shows up… which he's going to."

"Oh, Alvin," she replied, as if talking to an ignorant child, "Hiccup isn't going to ruin anything. In fact, he's about to _help_ us. He just doesn't know it yet."


	10. A Plan Flimsier Than Cheesecloth

**Chapter Nine: A Plan Flimsier Than Cheesecloth**

One uneventful morning later, Hiccup and the Dragon Squad returned to Cheek Bite Island carrying the supplies they needed for an overnight stay. The island was virtually unchanged from the previous day, though the weather had gone overcast during the night and the chill was stronger than before. As Hiccup, Astrid, and Snotlout landed their dragons, Hiccup spotted Marcus and Random standing on the beach next to a landing boat, watching the dragons arrive and raring to get a move on. The last of Marcus's camping supplies were heading to his ocean vessel via a second boat, the island now devoid of any signs of previous habitation, including the remains of the badly mangled target dummy. Marcus was apparently a total neat nick.

"You prepared for this, then?" asked Marcus after shaking Hiccup's hand in greeting. "I must insist on no dragons, and if I see any flying overhead I will be forced to call the arrangement off and return you to this island."

"We're good," said Hiccup. "My people are camping here overnight to wait for my return. Snotlout is coming with me as my plus-one."

Marcus must not have expected this particular choice in companions, as he gave Snotlout a rather skeptical glance. Apparently he didn't have high regard for Snotlout, making him a good judge of character. "Not your wife?"

"I'm staying with our dragons," answered Astrid. "And if Hiccup's late coming home, I'm bringing our dragons with me and coming to find _you._ Understand?"

Marcus had to have picked up on Astrid's subtle threat, but he reacted with a smile. "My good lady, I promise you that your husband will return to you on time and in good shape."

"Me too, right?" added Snotlout.

"Of course," reassured Marcus, talking as if such questions were silly to ask. The man certainly didn't come off like a scoundrel, but then a lot of scoundrels had the ability to hide their true natures right in plain sight.

"You might want to bring a change of clothes," suggested Random, waving at Hiccup's wing suit riding armor. "Where you're going, there won't be any dragons worth riding and I bet that suit of yours chaffs."

"Actually, my armor's quite comfortable," defended Hiccup. "I designed it with long trips in mind. Extra cushioning in all the right places."

"And I officially didn't need to know that," Random commented before getting into the landing boat.

Hiccup then went to Astrid and gave her a hug, a kiss, and a quiet reassurance that this was going to turn out okay. He had to consciously keep acting perkier than usual, as he had woken up feeling under the weather. He had hoped that a good night's sleep would cure his stomach issues, since his gut was persistently complaining about life in general ever since drinking that bitter brew from yesterday. Instead, he traded his upset stomach for feeling a little sore all over, like he was in the beginning stages of the flu. Bad timing if that was the case, but he didn't think it would affect his ability to see this mission through. He didn't tell Astrid about it as she'd been against this idea from the beginning and finding out he was sick would only make her get all motherly on him.

Then he went to Toothless, whose wide reptilian eyes were far more worry-stricken than Astrid's. Hiccup rarely left him behind for anything, and when he did it was never for good reasons. Hiccup gave him a hug around the neck and whispered into the ear. "You stick with Astrid and the others, bud, and tonight you'll come get me. Try to relax, okay?"

Toothless seemed to get the idea, but he didn't stop looking like he was being abandoned. Night Furies were experts when it came to guilt trips.

Snotlout tried to give his loyal steed Fenrir a soothing goodbye as well, but the Nightmare was more interested in the air show going on out to sea. Ruff and Tuff were flying Barf/Belch close to Marcus's ship and were having the two-headed dragon blowing out gas rings of various sizes with one head and lighting them up with the other, creating a dazzling parade of floating rings of fire that quickly dissipated into the air. The Twins referred to such antics as fire play, a common sight around Berk but not so common to outsiders. The sailors on the ship stood transfixed, watching the airborne combustion show with childish wonder.

Marcus was caught up with it as well when Hiccup returned to him. "What's this about?" he asked Hiccup.

"We thought we'd repay you for your hospitality with a little dragon show," said Hiccup. "Combustion gas isn't just for weapons, you know."

"Your people have an amazing relationship with your dragons," said Marcus, sounding genuinely impressed, even envious. "After my time with Drago, I didn't believe that dragons and humans could be willing partners. I'm glad to know it's not the case."

It was statements like that which threw Hiccup's assessment of Marcus all catawampus. How can a man who appreciated dragons and who claimed to want to save lives turn right around and arm a bunch of dragon raiders for war? Maybe he was just an exceptional liar, or maybe he was a complicated kind of guy. Either way, it wouldn't stop Hiccup from shutting him down if it came to that.

With the goodbyes said, Hiccup and Snotlout boarded the landing boat and headed out to the ship, Astrid and Toothless staring after them and hoping with all their hearts that this wasn't the last time they'd be seeing Hiccup… and maybe Snotlout. But they honestly could take or leave Snotlout as long as Hiccup came home.

* * *

><p>Ruff and Tuff's air show had the desired effect of theatricality and distraction, and it allowed Fishlegs and Chomps to go around Cheek Bite Island from the opposite direction, approaching Marcus's trade ship from behind and unnoticed. Otherwise there would have been a lot of suspicious looks concerning the two large leather sacks dangling from the dragon's saddle, or why the heavyset young man and his heavyset dragon were flying around Marcus's ship in the first place.<p>

Once they were roughly fifty yards out from the ship's stern, Fishlegs used hand signals to tell Chomps to go underwater. The dragon took in a big gulp of air and gently lowered herself into the sea, her bulky body submerging entirely but keeping Fishlegs's head above the surface. To an onlooker, it would appear that Fishlegs was going for a swim all by himself. Thankfully no onlookers were onlooking. Fishlegs shivered regardless, partly from nerves and partly because the water wasn't at its warmest.

Chomps vigorously dragon-paddled them to the back of the ship, close in to the rudder. This part was the trickiest bit as Fishlegs had to detach one of the algae-filled sacks while juggling a hammer and three large wood nails, all without letting go of anything and keeping in mind that Chomps only had a good two minutes of air before she needed a new breath.

Nails in mouth, tools in hand, he shifted one bag to a spot below the water line, planted a nail, and struck the nail several times with his hammer. It was difficult to pound nails underwater into a ship's sturdy hull, but Fishlegs's greater-than-average strength made it doable. He winced with each blow, the noise all too loud in his ears. But the Twins had their fiery diversion keeping the sailors distracted, and he finished securing the first sack without any mishaps.

The final touch involved taking out his self-defense dagger and making a small incision in the leather bag, allowing a trickle of algae to seep out into the water. It wouldn't glow until night fell, which would hide the trail from observant crewmembers during the day.

As Fishlegs commenced attaching the second sack, he felt Chomps growing more agitated underneath him. The poor dragon was running low on air, and Fishlegs was still only halfway done with the second sack. Not about to let his dearest dragon drown, Fishlegs was about to have her come up for air when he spotted a landing boat heading for the bow of the ship, one with Hiccup and Snotlout aboard. If he let Chomps up to get a breath there was a good chance someone on the landing boat would see them, and then questions would be asked. Bad, embarrassing, mission-spoiling questions.

Faced with no other alternative, Fishlegs closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and plunged his head underwater. He swam around to Chomps's mouth, pressed his lips to the dragon's lips, and blew all his air into the surprised dragon's mouth. Fishlegs thought he'd gag on the Gronckle's sour breath, but he forced himself to empty his lungs before returning to his saddle. He then returned to his task, working as furiously as possible so to avoid doing _that_ again.

With the second bag secured and a fresh rip punctured in its side, Fishlegs signaled Chomps to swim away as fast as she could. Once they got a safe distance from the ship, Chomps happily took to the air, breathing freely once again. They circled back around the island to avoid rousing suspicions, soon to rejoin Astrid and the Twins while they awaited tonight's secret base hunting. But right now Fishlegs cared more about finding a way to get the taste of dragon lips out of his mouth.

* * *

><p>"And that was the Twin Circles of Death," declared Tuffnut to his audience, right after a successful dual-ignition of a pair of gas rings, making the air in front of BarfBelch shimmer as the rings burned away their seconds-long lifespan. "Only the bravest of Vikings dare to fly through them…"

"Psst," whispered Ruffnut while nodding her head, calling attention to Hiccup's landing boat and how close it was to the vessel. Tuffnut realized it was time to wrap things up, since the plan called for fireworks only until Hiccup and Snotlout were sailing away.

"…Aaaanndd you're going to have to wait for another day, because we're not going to do that," he continued. The crowd of sailors looked almost disappointed.

"Our dragon is all out of fuel," Ruffnut added, "and we are all out of time."

"Right," said Tuffnut. "I hope you have enjoyed this diver… this thing we just did for you." To Tuffnut's credit, some aspects of his Champion days were coming back to him, such as not broadcasting one's true intention to your adversaries and knowing to quit while you're ahead.

The Twins gave their audience a bow and then directed Barf/Belch away from the ship, a chorus of applause accompanying their departure. Tuffnut felt buoyed by the positive reception to their antics – usually people responded with groans and threats. His sister seemed to be less pleased, a sizeable frown on her face.

"I think we were a hit," he commented to Ruffnut. "Maybe we can go on the road and get into show business."

"Yeah, swell," she sourly responded. "We can call our act Ruff and Tuff, the airborne village idiots. It's not like anyone will remember us for anything else… like, I don't know, helping save the world."

"You're still upset about that?"

"Why _wouldn't _I be?" She gave her brother a disappointed glare. "How come you're fine with being forgotten?"

"Hey, we got off easy," he replied. "Hiccup and Astrid might have the respect, but now they have to do 'responsible things', like leading the village and acting like adults. Who wants to be in charge and make tough choices? Where's the fun in that?"

Ruffnut groaned in exasperation. Her brother had never been fully committed to the cause of improving their lives, and because they were _the_ infamous bad-news duo in Berk, his attitude had a tendency to drag her down with him. "Well, our little routine was getting old for me years ago, and it's _definitely_ old now."

Tuffnut sighed to himself. Why couldn't his sister be happy with what they had? Boyfriends came and went, reputations came and went, but the two of them would always have each other. Why was that enough for him… but not for her?

Thankfully the matter stopped mattering for the moment as they arrived on the beach, Astrid waiting with all the dragons and looking rather worried as she watched the trading vessel pull anchor and sail off to the northeast. Fishlegs was coming around the other side of the island, keeping low to the ground and looking like a cold wet dog riding atop another cold wet dog.

"Impressive display, you two," Astrid told them as they landed, without a single hit of sarcasm. "Let's hope it gave Fishlegs the time he needed."

Fishlegs landed soon after, hugging himself as the stress of his endeavor wore off and his body was reminded of the cruel combination of icy water and frigid air. "Can… can you guys get a f…fire going?"

"Toothless?" asked Astrid. Already on the job, Toothless lobbed a mini-bolt into a prepared fire pit, summoning a healthy fire into blazing existence. Fishlegs eagerly crowded next to the newly born campfire, trying not to let his teeth chatter too much.

"I got both bags attached," he stated proudly once his teeth were under his control again. "They should stay on as long as the weather doesn't get too wild."

"Let's hope Njord is in a good mood," said Astrid, referring to the God of the Oceans, one most Vikings prayed to any time they went out to sea. "One good storm during the day and our algae trail could get wiped away before nightfall."

"It'll be alright, Astrid," Ruffnut said in a reassuring tone. "Hiccup's been in tight situations before and he always comes out of it just fine."

Astrid knew this as well. Hiccup was the smartest person she knew, and he had handled far greater threats than a weapon designer with delusions of grandeur. But when you build a life with someone, when you come to love someone as much as she loved Hiccup, it was hard to think clearly or confidently when he was putting himself in harm's way. It made waiting almost intolerable, especially when your amazing rescue plan was little more than following a trail of glowing slime out to sea.

But wait she would… because that was the only option.

* * *

><p>Marcus maintained the air of a good host all through the voyage to his island, offering food and drink as required (thankfully not that dark bitter stuff again) even as the blindfolds went on and the world was filtered from his sight. Yes, the other condition of Hiccup's tour involved a blindfold for most of the sea voyage. As disquieting as it was to stand around for hours without knowing what Marcus and his crew were up to, it was the only way Marcus would allow the voyage to continue.<p>

Snotlout didn't take too well to the blindfold, talking incessantly about any concern that entered his head. For example: "Hello? Somebody? Can you take my arm and lead me to my chair? I really don't want to slip and fall overboard. I can't swim with a blindfold on." Hiccup found it easy to hide from Snotlout in this case – don't answer when he called out, and Snotlout would assume you weren't around.

Marcus never left Hiccup's side throughout the trip, and they chatted about their respective exploits and adventures. Marcus was far more interested in listening than talking, as he had heard about the Dragon War and the War of the Alchemist and wanted lots of details. Hiccup had storytelling down pretty well after reciting the same stories over and over to eager Vikings young and old, and while he didn't exactly trust Marcus, he saw no harm in telling him what he'd told hundreds of people already.

"Do you miss it?" asked Marcus once Hiccup concluded his War of The Alchemist chronicle. "Being a Champion, I mean. Do you miss those days of high excitement?"

"That's surprisingly not an easy question to answer," Hiccup replied. "Those days were some of the best I've ever had… and some of the worst as well. Saving the world? Awesome. Thinking that I had lost Astrid? That almost broke me. I feel good about belonging to a group of such exceptional individuals, but there's a price to be paid for membership, and the longer you stay, the steeper the price. My current life is pretty unexciting, but the toll is pretty light. So yes, I do miss it, but only to a point."

"A reasonable answer," spoke Marcus. "You're right, though. It is surprising. I would've thought you missed being the hero more than that."

"What makes you say that?"

"The tales of you and your dragon patrolling the North Sea, intercepting pirates. It strikes me as somebody who still has a bit of the Champion in them."

"Well, I fly around the North Sea because it's fun. The pirate thing… is because I like helping people out of jams."

Marcus laughed. "That's a good thing, Chief Hiccup. That's why we're doing what we're doing."

_If only I could believe you,_ Hiccup thought to himself.

Hours later, Hiccup detected the fall of night through the blindfold, as well as the faint glimmer of torchlight, and his thoughts switched to Astrid and the rest of the squad. If all went according to plan, they would be following along once the ocean grew dark. When they found the ship, they were supposed to tail it until Marcus's island was reached, and then they were supposed to hang back until Hiccup gave them a signal of some sort. All in all, this plan was flimsier than cheesecloth, but it remained their best chance at uncovering Marcus's true intentions.

A couple of hours after nightfall, Hiccup could feel the ship slowing down, new voices carrying to his ears on the wind. Marcus warned him that the blindfolds were about to be removed, and a moment later the world returned to his eyes. A dark world dotted with a few torches coming from the island ahead and featuring a starless sky above. His eyes adjusted quickly, not that there was much to adjust to.

Much like Berk, there were signal fires on the island designed to guide the ship around the few nautical obstructions in the area that might wreck a ship. Hiccup couldn't discern much about the island in the dark, only that parts of it reflected the firelight the way sheets of ice could. The air was nippier as well, implying they had gone further north. Hiccup glanced about the ship, trying to get a read on the crew now that they were back home, seeing if their attitudes had changed to a more hostile state, indicating a possible trap in progress. Near as he could tell, the crew remained in good spirits, Marcus most of all. Random didn't seem all that friendly at the moment, going as far as to shoo away Snotlout with a baleful glance, but she had never struck Hiccup as the friendly type to begin with.

"Home sweet home," said Marcus as the ship glided toward the dock, a quartet of men waiting to secure it with rope and rigging. "What it lacks in character it more than makes up for in security."

Hiccup stayed silent, trying his best to find some landmark or distinctive quality to the region that might trip his memory, give him an idea of where they were. But it was all too indistinct. Marcus had done his job of securing his base all too well.

Once the ship was tied up and the boarding planks secured, Marcus gestured for Hiccup and Snotlout to follow him off the ship and up the dock. "If you wish, you can refresh yourselves first before we start the tour."

"I wouldn't mind a nap," said Snotlout.

"Tour first, please," insisted Hiccup. "Starting with your dragons." Hiccup wouldn't have minded a nap either, considering that his under-the-weather status had grown stormier as the day progressed, with little aches residing in all his joints, but rest had to come later. As innocuous as the island looked, it was possible that it was a cleverly hidden pit of vipers. Better to know what he was dealing with as soon as possible.

Marcus nodded politely and led the way, Hiccup and Snotlout and the rest of the crew following behind. Hiccup chanced a glance out to sea, hoping to see any winged beasts hiding in the black sky, but there was only the sky. More worrying was the lack of any glowing spots on the ocean, trail or otherwise. Hiccup had figured that the algae supply wouldn't last all the way to the island, but he had expected to see a trace of it somewhere.

Regardless, it was too early to start panicking. As long as the algae trail got the squad within a few miles of the island, Toothless would be able to lead them the rest of the way. No dragon was better at tracking in the dark than a Night Fury.

* * *

><p>Astrid's idea of good time consisted of flying patrols, winning Dragon Races, or thumping bad guys. Waiting around with nothing to do but agonize over what terrible tortures were in store for Hiccup was at the bottom of her fun list, but also at the top of her toil-and-trouble list.<p>

She whiled away the hours going through some combat moves and practice throws with her myssteel axe. She was a bit rusty, having largely retired her axe to the memento wall in her house upon gaining leadership of the Dragon Squad, but the old skill was quickly coming back to her. The rocks on Cheek Bite Island did suffer for her training, with many split and broken mineral deposits lying in her wake.

Toothless kept a vigil on the sea, waiting for the moment when he could take off and go find his beloved Hiccup. The other dragons dozed and nibbled on dried jerky. Ruff and Tuff found several things to argue about over the day, and Astrid didn't care to learn what. Fishlegs worked on his revisions to the Dragon Manual while he waited for his clothes to dry off. The weather stayed cloudy but no storms arose to ruin their plans. It was all painfully ordinary, and Astrid wanted to end it by jumping on Beatrix and flying off after Hiccup, but the ship had disappeared into the horizon long ago, and she would most likely go the wrong direction. She needed patience here, a quality that she didn't have in abundance.

Day eventually receded into night, and the eyes of the Dragon Squad went to the ocean, awaiting the appearance of Fishlegs' algae. Astrid started willing the algae to materialize the moment the daylight grew too faint to see by, ordering the rest of the gang not to use torches. But no bluish-green glow could be seen anywhere, only the gentle, murky ocean.

"It takes a little while for the algae to light up," said Fishlegs, his tone more hopeful than confident. "But it'll show. I'm… mostly certain of it."

"You sure you used enough?" asked Ruffnut.

"The bags were brimming with it," he replied. "A concentrated amount, practically everything I have."

As the minutes ticked by with the algae pulling a no-show, Astrid started feeling more and more frantic. This was their only link to Hiccup, and if it failed then Hiccup would be stuck in the hands of possibly very dangerous people. She didn't have any other options, either, other than to fly blind and hope they came across…

Toothless made a loud growl and gestured enthusiastically with his head toward the waters, the dragon super-excited by something out there. Astrid strained her eyes looking the direction Toothless indicated, and at first she couldn't make out anything to get excited about. But then she spotted it – a thin line of blue-green light that didn't match up to any reflection from any light source around, a ways off from the shoreline. It was a lot thinner that she expected, barely visible in fact. The algae must have dissipated substantially over the course of the day, but it was still there.

"On your dragons," Astrid ordered. To Toothless, she added, "You lead the way, Toothless. Get us to Hiccup."

Toothless nodded and took to the air faster than a flea could jump, circling impatiently as he waited for the others to get airborne. Seeing Toothless flying solo in the air served as an aching reminder to Astrid of their mission, and she was glad to see everyone taking the matter seriously. Even Fenrir followed without hesitation. Astrid didn't think there were many people who missed Snotlout's foul-smelling presence, but the Nightmare seemed to genuinely care about the loutish Viking. Maybe the dragon saw something in Snotlout that no one else saw, hard as it was to imagine what that was.

From the air the algae trail was easier to follow, a string-like line that stretched out into infinity along the black waters. Parts of it curved or even broke apart in places, a fractured line tormented by ocean currents and other forces, but the overall line kept strong and pointed the way. Still, it was a very thin line and the Dragon Squad had to stay low to the ocean to keep track of it, mostly relying on Toothless and his night-tracking skills to keep them on course.

Astrid didn't feel relieved as yet, and she wouldn't until she found Marcus's island and Hiccup, but after an hour of flying she did feel a touch less stressed. A day's travel by ship was a couple of hours by dragon, which meant that they would be catching up to Hiccup in short order…

Toothless did an abrupt bank and turn before righting his trajectory, the kind of thing most people would dismiss as unknowable dragon antics. Astrid, wizened in the ways of dragons, knew better. Toothless had seen something that had shocked him enough to disorient him briefly, something that had him worried. And half-a-minute later, she understood why.

The trail led off to a massive pool of glowing blue-green stuff, a lump of color in a featureless void. Unmistakable and impossible to miss, the pool could've encompassed the length of a longboat within it. A few tendrils of algae surged out from the main mass, a few small puddles breaking away from the source, but as for the trail itself, none existed past the pool.

"I may not have listened to the entire plan," commented Tuffnut, "but I'm pretty sure this wasn't part of it."

"Oh, no," said Fishlegs, his voice squeaking with emotion. "No, no, no. Those bags were the strongest ones we had. There's no way this could have happened!"

"_What_ happened, Fishlegs?" demanded Astrid, feeling what little relief inside her turn tail and flee for safer territory.

"That's a spill down there," explained Fishlegs. "The bags must have ripped open and dumped the rest of the algae. The trail's gone!"

"Maybe the ship hit something that took out the bags," said Ruffnut.

"There's no signs of debris or wreckage," said Fishlegs. "There are no rocks around. What could they have hit?"

"Then… maybe they found the bags and did it themselves," said Ruffnut, her voice hesitant as she looked Astrid's way to get confirmation or denial. She got neither, Astrid being too involved in searching the sea for a clue to Hiccup's current whereabouts to pay attention.

"They couldn't have done that," said Tuffnut. "That'd mean they knew about our plans and…" The thought finally occurred to him. "Whoa, maybe they _do _know and…"

Ruffnut conked him on the helmet to get him to shut up. "Keep it to yourself right now, okay?"

Astrid forced the panic rising within her to find another home, though she knew it would eventually return, and with reinforcements. There had to be another way to pick up the trail – landmarks, stars, special dragon powers, anything. Maybe Toothless could still follow the ship somehow even if it was hours later and in the dead of night. Toothless was extremely good at homing in on Hiccup no matter where Hiccup was. It was something to pin her hopes on.

Except when she looked up to the sky once more, Toothless was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

><p>There were occasions during some of Hiccup's long-distance flights with Toothless that he would entertain himself with the "what if" game. It was a fun thought-exercise he'd try out when his mind wasn't preoccupied with new gadget designs or the-problem-of-the-week or with tribe issues or Astrid or dragon training; in other words, it was a rare thing. The "what if" game entailed taking a point in his past and suggesting a different course, a different decision made. His last what-if topic had gotten rather bleak, though: what if he never shot down Toothless? In this instance, Hiccup imagined the village getting more and more sick of his failings until either they found a reason to exile him that Stoick couldn't override, or the more likely scenario – he'd leave on his own. It's not like you can stomach sticking around people who despise you for years and years without deciding to find some greener grass elsewhere. Maybe he'd beat the odds and find a non-Viking village somewhere that needed a competent blacksmith apprentice. Without dragon issues to deal with, he'd dive into his work and become the best blacksmith for miles around, letting his tinkerer side become his one and only side. He'd go on to create amazing inventions that would change the world, laborsaving devices to revolutionize hunting and butter churning and yak milking and sheep shearing. He might have gone on to find love and respect and everything else he had lacked in his pre-Toothless days, everything he had now… or, more likely, he would have died of exposure after one good arctic storm.<p>

Upon entering Marcus's massive workshop, Hiccup felt like he had slipped into his "what if" game without knowing it. The place resembled much of what he envisioned his own famous blacksmith shop would look like, men hard at work bending red-hot metal to their will, steam and fire billowing out of vents and forges at regular intervals, the noise of industry echoing around like sweet chamber music. Other than the pipes crisscrossing everywhere, it was the same kind of setup he'd have engineered if he had fully embraced his smithy side.

Less impressed than Hiccup, Snotlout took off his helmet and wiped his brow of the sweat that was already breaking out. "Oof, it's like the inside of Fenrir's mouth in here."

"It does get a little warm," said Marcus, leading them past his hard-working men, many of whom stopped to look at their guests. Hiccup didn't recognize any of them, though he was certain that a few of them were frowning his way. There weren't as many as he feared, though, a couple dozen men at most. Nothing like the Alchemist's army or even the Outcasts. If violence became a requirement, he wouldn't need a full dragon-riding army to shut the shop down.

"The stable section is ahead," assured Marcus as he headed for a set of open doorways. "We sometimes call it the 'supply room' for what will become obvious reasons."

The blacksmith portion of the worship soon gave way to a cooler, almost unpopulated section. Hiccup's dander began to rise when he first saw the signs of iron bars around the corner, but there were no dragons residing behind those bars. A set of empty cages resided near the stable room's main doors, and Hiccup couldn't detect any dragon odor coming from them. The cages hadn't been used in quite a while, if ever.

Marcus noticed Hiccup's reaction and said, "I had to use those to ship the dragons here initially. We keep them around in case of emergencies."

Marcus had the rest of his men stay behind while he, Hiccup, and Snotlout proceeded further into the stable. Hiccup smelled the dragon pens right before he saw them, the pungent aroma of stale hay and dragon musk assaulting his nose. Past the cages and a pile of assorted crates, the latter half of the room became a dragon stable of sorts. Individual pens had been built to accommodate the dozen dragons that rested in the stable, with everything reasonably clean and with no signs of restraints or chains. A chill wind blew on him for a moment from above, and Hiccup noticed the manmade hole in the roof big enough for a dragon to fly through. The dragons were snoozing in their pens or enjoying their dinner, and none of them were in distress or pain, though they didn't look especially lively or in the best physical shape.

"These dragons are the ones too traumatized to return to the wild," said Marcus in a soft tone. "Drago's form of dragon-training was something brutal and malevolent. Most of us knew it was wrong, but none of us were going to stick our necks out for the sake of creatures that we thought would roast and devour us if given half a chance. If it wasn't for the death of Drago, most of these creatures would still be in chains, being whipped into obedience. The ones that could return to the wild we let go, but these ones have seen too much cruelty, and they've become too dependent on us to live on their own. They can fly out anytime they want, but they always come back."

Hiccup felt his a little piece of his heart break as he walked the pens, examining the dragons. There was wariness in their eyes, a mistrust of the unfamiliar, and Hiccup kept his distance out of safety and respect. Most of them had scars on their scales, and one Nadder was operating with only one eye. These dragons had seen much suffering, and they wore their suffering inside and out.

Snotlout must have felt the same heartbreak, if his crestfallen face was any indication. He approached one red-and-yellow scaled Nightmare and attempted friendship with the classic sticking-out-your-hand-to-the-snout move. "Hey there, girl, I'm Snotlout and…"

The dragon snapped at his hand, missing taking off his fingertips by mere inches. Snotlout recoiled and stepped back to a safer spot. "Okay, I think I'll leave you alone."

"It's not you, Snotlout," said Marcus. "These dragons don't have much love of humanity. They simply understand that this is a safe place to be. We have to be careful not to spook them."

"You think you could have mentioned that _before_ I stuck out my hand?" complained Snotlout.

Hiccup completed his inspection, and while he could find nothing wrong with Marcus's setup, his dander was definitely on the rise again. Some of the blame could be placed on how his flu symptoms had grown twice as achy in the last ten minutes, his body complaining about all the moving he was doing, but most of the cause came from the composition of the dragons in Marcus's stable. The species were a mix of Nightmares, Nadders, and one solitary Zippleback… the same kind of dragons as the ones that attacked him last night. He didn't recognize them exactly, it had been too dark to see scale colors and other features, but it was too much of a coincidence to be ignored. Still, getting angry and accusatory at your host, the same host who could easily throw you into the freezing ocean and be done with you, was not a wise move.

Marcus shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with how silent things had gotten. Perhaps he was worried that Hiccup would judge him for the crimes of Drago, or even for his own. "Even if I didn't have a use for their combustion gas," he said, his tone appeasing, "I'd be taking care of these creatures. I consider it atonement for my part in Drago's plans."

"How do you get the combustion gas from them?" Hiccup asked Marcus, keeping his souring mood out of his tone. "I can't see dragons this traumatized enjoying having steel funnels stuck in their mouths."

"Admittedly, I can't get full cooperation from them. If I were to go into full production, I'd need dragons like yours, ones happy to supply gas without massive amounts of coercion. Most of the time, it's just a matter of patience."

Marcus paused for a moment, his face caught in a quandary of indecision. He must have a juicy secret on hand big enough to potentially ruin their deal, and he must have picked up on Hiccup's unhappy state. Marcus's desire to please still baffled the devil out of Hiccup, because most men who had secrets to keep didn't expose themselves as readily and fully as Marcus did. But Marcus had told Hiccup his life story, betting that his former association with a monster like Drago wouldn't kill the deal. Marcus had allowed a visit to his island, where all his dirty laundry was housed. If Marcus really was a craven profiteer or insane madmen, he sure wasn't playing the villain very well.

Something was really wrong with this situation, but Hiccup was no longer sure that Marcus was part of the problem.

"There is one more part of my legacy with Drago you haven't seen yet," admitted Marcus, apparently doing the non-villain thing and telling Hiccup his secrets… again. "Drago had his own pet projects, and while most of them were lost when he died, he did finish one of them."

Marcus motioned for Hiccup and Snotlout to follow him, and he led them to a locked wooden cabinet on the other side of the room, near the empty cages. He fumbled through his pockets for the key to the steel lock on the front, swearing colorfully one time as the key continued to elude him. "My supply manager should've been here with the keys, but he seems to be on a dinner break right now. Not the most appealing of men, but he doesn't have any fear of dragons, which is rare."

"What are we about to see here?" asked Hiccup.

"You'll see in a moment," he reassured, though the swearing he was doing undid the reassurance. "Like I said, it's the last legacy of Drago's attempts to create a dragon army. Drago wanted to duplicate his Bewilderbeast's ability to sway the minds of dragons. Having a pet Bewilderbeast is all well and good, but he was gambling that the creature wouldn't someday realize it was a hundred times his size and could squash him like a cockroach. Not to mention that he only had the one Alpha and he'd needed more of them if he planned on creating a world-conquering army. So why not cut out the Alpha entirely and control the dragons himself?"

Despite the growing discomfort of his flu (was it a flu? He hadn't sneezed or coughed once since getting it), this batch of bad news succeeded in making Hiccup feel even worse. "How exactly would you do that?" he asked.

"Sound," said Marcus, stopping his key search so he could focus on his explanation. "Alphas use sound to control lesser dragons, sound that only dragons can hear. Drago experimented with all sorts of musical instruments, trying to replicate the exact nature of the Alpha signal. And he did… sort of."

Hiccup flashed back to last night's attack and the terrifying moment when Hiccup realized that Toothless was no longer reacting to anything Hiccup said or did. "Drago created dragon mind control?"

"This sounds like a pretty creepy thing to create," said Snotlout, "and if there's one thing I know about, it's creepy."

Feeling the weight of judgmental eyes on him, Marcus went back to looking for his lost key amidst his clothing. "The Alpha Signal Device he crafted puts out a sound that can cause a dragon to fall into a relaxed state, make it more compliant and easy to command. I call it the ASD for short. As long as the signal is playing, you can make practically any dragon settle down and obey you… as long as you don't ask them to do anything hostile like attacking people. That's the problem with using the ASD to control an army. The dragons get _too _relaxed. It also has a limited range, too short to command anything other than a small squad of dragons. I'm pretty sure Drago saw it as a failure, though with enough time he might have eventually found the right signal to gain total control."

Hiccup had been so close to giving Marcus a break, but this was changing his mind all over again. "I take it you've used it, and I mean recently."

Marcus didn't look Hiccup in the eye, but Hiccup could see the guilty expression just the same. "Only to calm down our dragons, Chief Hiccup. They can get upset very easily and sometimes it's the only thing that makes them cooperative."

_I think you've used it for more than that, _Hiccup wanted to accuse.

One of Marcus's hands emerged grasping a key, and Marcus hurriedly placed the key into the lock. "You must believe me, Chief Hiccup. I do not wish to be anything like Drago. I only use it for maintaining the safety of my men and the dragons. It never leaves this room. In fact, most of the time it stays right…"

Marcus removed the lock and opened the cabinet doors, only to be greeting by a small gathering of dust bunnies. Whatever he thought was supposed to be in there simply wasn't.

The look of shock on Marcus's face was stark and almost pained. "What? No! It's not supposed to leave this room. I gave explicit instructions."

Hiccup's opinion of the guy just couldn't stay fixed to one side. Just like his dragons, he clearly didn't want his ASD to fall into the wrong hands. And it obviously _had_ fallen into them, only Marcus was not in the know. Somebody was doing bad things with Marcus's devices behind his back, which meant he might be in the worst trouble of all of them.

"Does anyone else have a key to this cabinet?" Hiccup asked.

"Uh… just… just me and the supply manager," said Marcus, trying to regain his composure. His face darkened as he came to realize what Hiccup was getting at. "The supply manager."

"Yes, the supply manager," came a new voice, new to the conversation but nowhere near new to Hiccup. The voice instantly made him recoil, and he darted his head in the direction of the doorway. The voice's owner, along with his two disgruntled-looking companions, blocked the door completely, which was the only way out unless you had wings.

"But only my friends call me supply manager," said Alvin. "You can refer to me as Mr. Treacherous."


	11. Easy Or Hard, It Doesn't Really Matter

**Chapter Ten: Easy Or Hard, It Doesn't Really Matter**

Some would argue that a dragon is far more than a dumb killing machine, and they would be right, but a dragon is still an animal at heart, and instinct rules the hearts of all animals in the end. Toothless was no exception.

Instinct drove at Toothless like a persistent itch on his backside, his burning desire to reunite with Hiccup and keep him safe pushing him into reckless territory. The dragon knew he was alone, flying solo over the endless waters of the ocean, but he didn't care. He couldn't communicate what he knew, what he could do, and he would lose precious time trying. So he had left the other dragons and their humans behind, taking faith that they would find their own way in time.

To the eyes of most night flyers, the darkened sea below was little more than a flat featureless void. For Toothless, there was one extra feature: a line of faint light that led onward towards the horizon, a new trail where the old one had faltered. It was composed of the same substance as before, the odd glowing algae that tasted funky but made one's scales glow brilliantly. The ship had passed through the pool of spilt algae and had picked up a trace of it on its hull, the ocean waves gradually wiping away the clinging algae into the ship's wake. There was so little algae left over that the human eye (and most dragon eyes) couldn't perceive any light, but a Night Fury was made to live in darkness, and he picked up what the others could not. Even then, the glow was so weak that only the presence of utter darkness allowed Toothless to see it. Any further light in the horizon, or a substantial break in the cloud cover, and he might lose the trail altogether.

So Toothless pressed on, focusing all his attention on the barely-visible trail, and for the next hour the world consisted of only Toothless and the trail, everything else falling away into nothingness. And then there was only Toothless, for the trail came to a final end, tapering off into oblivion. The algae was spent, and Toothless growled out to the sky his frustration as he circled and searched the waters for a new trail, a new sign of life, anything at all.

So intent of the water below him, it took him a while to set his sights higher. When he ultimately spotted it, he lambasted himself for panicking like a newly born hatchling. A far off light source existed to the east, a flicker of torchlight showing off the contours of an unknown island. It was the best hope he had.

He raced off toward the island, keeping his senses at the ready. The sky began to open up here and there, starlight poking through the hazy ceiling, and the night lightened up enough to show the nature of the island. There was a human structure built there, and much to Toothless's joy he also saw the ship that had whisked Hiccup away. This had to be the place that Hiccup had gone.

He lowered his altitude until he was practically skimming the waves, his nose poised to pick up any traces of his beloved master. As he closed in, the familiar, comforting scent of Hiccup came to him amidst a crowd of others, most unknown, though he did recognize the unsavory human called Snotlout as well. That one never smelled quite right – too much arrogance mixed in with poor hygiene.

He soon arrived over the island, circling just outside the light of the beacon torches on the docks, scanning it for unpleasant-looking humans. None were apparent, but there was still the problem of getting inside the building and finding Hiccup. Past experience told Toothless that barreling in like a battle-crazed Nightmare would only end badly. Sneaking was called for. It was unfortunate that he had left Hiccup's favorite human behind, as she was better suited for this kind of task. He thought of hunting down the other dragons and their riders and bringing them back to the island, but that would take too long, and his heart beat heavy with the need to ensure Hiccup was okay.

Then he spotted the hole in the roof. A strange thing, considering that human structures usually didn't have such features unless they were falling down or friendly to dragons. Toothless landed on the roof and quietly skulked to the edge of the hole, peeking through it. He immediately located a number of dragons in their beds. They had sad smells to them, odors of injury and ancient distress, though they didn't appear to be in trouble now.

Then his nose directed him to look elsewhere, and his heart leapt with joy at the sight of his rider and friend standing on the other side of the room, alive and well. It was followed by a dose of anger when he saw the big human standing in the doorway, a human he had come to despise.

* * *

><p>"I'm hurt, Marcus," said Alvin, taking a menacing step into the room with his two men flanking him. "You really thought I was lying down on the job, and after all that overtime I've put in."<p>

Alvin's dramatic appearance was both a shock and a non-shock to Hiccup. After Astrid's report, Hiccup half-expected that Alvin might pop up anywhere trouble was brewing, even though he had hoped to never hear from Alvin ever again. Alvin was the human equivalent of head lice – no matter how many herbal treatments you used to get them out of your hair, they always found a way to return. But Hiccup hadn't expected him to show up _here_, and working for Marcus directly.

"Standish, what do you think you're doing?" asked Marcus, directing his question at Alvin. "Where's the ASD?"

Alvin made a blank look for a couple of seconds, then illumination descended on him. "Oh, right, _I'm_ Standish." He laughed. "A forgettable name, Standish. Last time I let someone else pick out fake names for me."

Snotlout grimaced at Marcus. "Really? You thought someone who looks like _this_ is a Standish?"

Marcus ignored Snotlout and focused his narrowing eyes on Alvin/Standish. "Standish, I demand you tell me what you are doing."

Alvin laughed heartily at the notion of being _demanded_. "Marcus, you have a great talent at making things go boom. In another life, we might have been friends. But you're not the best judge of character. As for what I'm doing, I am escorting the three of you into these cages. We'll continue the conversation after that."

Realizing that Standish was no longer on his payroll, Marcus adopted a panicked look and starting yelling at the top of his voice. "Guards! Guards! To the stable!"

The only response was another bout of devilish laughter from Alvin. "Guards! Guards! Your boss needs help!" He mocked. "Oh, that's right, they're already inconvenienced. That happens when more of your men are loyal to me than you."

He turned his sour gaze on Hiccup, looking a little more impressed with what he saw than in times past. "I must say, I like your new look. I didn't get to see much of it last night. Too busy trying to blast you out of the sky. Tell me, did you miss me at all?"

That confirmed that - Alvin was leading the raiders. Hiccup shook his head at the unpleasant Outcast. "The only way I'll ever miss you, Alvin, is if Toothless develops bad aim."

Alvin had his men go to the cages and unlock two of them, swinging them wide open in expectation of company. Alvin pointed at the cages. "Easy way or hard way? I don't really care which."

Right then, a winged shadow descended from the hole in the roof and landed right between Alvin's men and Hiccup. A long tail slapped at the two men and sent them sprawling, knocking them dazed, while the rest of the reptilian form pointed itself at Alvin, addressing him with wide angry eyes and bared teeth. Alvin took a step back in surprise and looked around for cover, the doorway his only feasible escape, not that he'd make it before Toothless burnt off his britches.

Marcus tripped in surprise and fell to the hard ground at the appearance of the famous dragon, while Snotlout whooped in joy at the sudden reversal. Hiccup breathed out a big sigh of relief and ran to Toothless, giving the dragon a quick supportive pat.

"Bud, you never cease to have good timing," said Hiccup, the dragon nuzzling him happily. He then looked at Alvin and pointed at the cages. "Easy way or hard way? I don't really care which."

With little choice in the matter, Alvin and his two men found themselves encaged in short order. Alvin seemed more amused than angry as Hiccup slammed the cage door on him while Snotlout helped Marcus to his feet. Hiccup didn't care to find out what Alvin found so funny, as they weren't staying around long enough to ask.

"So you're going to need a new supply manager now, right?" Snotlout asked a rather stunned Marcus, who was still getting over the fact that his men had just mutinied. "If you want my work experience, I'm pretty good at…"

"Not now, Snotlout," ordered Hiccup. "It won't be long before the rest of Alvin's men come this way. It'll be a tight fit getting three people on Toothless, but we'll make it work."

"Wait, wait, I can't leave," said Marcus, coming out of his astonishment. "I can't leave my workshops in Standish's hands. Plus I have to find Random and…"

"First off, his name is Alvin," said Hiccup. "Second, your workshop is already in his hands. He's been using your weapons and your dragons to organize dragon raids."

"That's not possible," said Marcus, his eyes full of disbelief. "My dragons won't take riders."

Hiccup looked at him askance. "Marcus, these dragons were carrying Alvin and his men last night. They definitely take riders."

"They won't let any human touch them, Hiccup. There's no way it could be _these _dragons."

A thought occurred to Hiccup, and he turned to Alvin. "It's the ASD, isn't it Alvin? You've been using it to control the dragons. Come to think of it, why have you been doing that?"

Alvin smirked at Hiccup. "There's more than one way to train a dragon, Dragon Conqueror, and I was tired of trying things your way. But I'm really not the person you should be asking. She should be along real soon." His smirk widened evilly. "In fact, I think she's here."

Hiccup instinctively turned to face the doorway, but no one was there. Then he caught Toothless's odd behavior out of the corner of his eye, the dragon shaking his head frantically, as if trying to dislodge a bug from his ear. Hiccup called his name, but the dragon ignored him in lieu of more head gyrations. Hiccup had a feeling he'd seen this effect before, and his feeling was sadly validated when the pupils in Toothless's eyes shrunk to tiny slivers, the dragon ceasing his struggling and standing at attention like a soulless statue.

Hiccup came over to his dragon pal, stared him right in the eyes, and tried slapping him gently on the cheek. "Pal, wake up! Pal, snap out of it! Whatever you're hearing, ignore it, okay? Don't do this right now!"

"Don't bother, Hiccup," said Marcus morosely. "One of Alvin's men is using the ASD."

"Please don't insult me like that," came the response from the doorway in a perfectly female voice. "There's no way I'd ever work _for_ Alvin."

Random finally appeared, wearing her traveling clothes as well as one new accessory. It was a type of harness mated with a spinning wheel, only the spinning wheel was composed of a grooved steel plate, covered in a waxy substance. A long spindle was attached to the center of the device, the needlelike tip fitted into the largest grove near the outside of the wheel. A crank was built into the side of the device, which Random currently manipulated with her left hand. The device took up most of her chest region, and as she cranked the device the circular plate reacted by spinning around and around like a wagon wheel. There was no grinding or scraping sounds coming from the wheel, but Hiccup thought he could detect the faintest of whines coming from it, right on the edge of his perception.

If Alvin's betrayal had been hard for Marcus to accept, Random's about-face practically floored him. He looked at her with mouth agape, unable to think straight. He understood all too well now, and Hiccup gave himself permission to feel sorry for the guy. The island really had been a pit full of vipers, but Marcus hadn't been one of them.

Snotlout seemed more confused than alarmed at Random's actions. "Hey, Random, I think you got this backwards. We caught the bad guy. The dragon's on our side. You can put that thing away."

Random sneered at Snotlout, shaking her head at his obtuseness. "It's a good thing you have brawn on your side, Snot-boy. Your brain is never going to be your path to success."

_Now_ Snotlout was getting it, and his reaction was almost as bad as Marcus's. "Wa… Wait, what about our deal?"

Hiccup didn't miss the word _deal _coming out of Snotlout's mouth, and the idea that Snotlout somehow had one with this woman did not please him in the slightest. He stood up and faced his so-called bodyguard. "Snotlout, what are you talking about?" he asked ominously.

"He's talking about how he screwed you," Random answered on Snotlout's behalf. "He told me your little plan. Those sacks of slime you attached to our ship? Sliced open back at sea. I'm surprised your pet dragon still tracked you down… and yet not surprised. Pets do the darnedest things to reach their owners, you know. Which is why I broke out the ASD just in case. So thanks, Snotlout, you pulled through yet again."

Something snapped inside of Snotlout, and much like a yak with anger management issues, Snotlout suddenly grew enraged and charged Random. He almost made it to her before another figure darted out of the doorway and smacked him hard in the face with a sturdy wooden staff. That brought his charge to a quick halt, his face caught in a rictus of surprise and pain before he keeled over and went limp on the ground, moaning.

In a moment full of dreary revelations and reversals, Hiccup found this newest one the most discombobulating, because the person who had saved Random from Snotlout… was Random. Hiccup would swear at any Trial of Tyr that it was her. Same purple ponytail, same pale face, same proportions and curves. Her clothes were different, more designed for wilderness travel, but in every other aspect it was Random, right down to the smug smile on her face as she stood before the first Random, brandishing her staff in Hiccup's direction.

"Cutting it a little close, don't you think?" commented the first Random.

The second one shrugged. "I like dramatic entrances just as much as you do."

Hiccup couldn't afford to question why there were two Randoms, and he went for his only option – plugging up Toothless's ears and hoping it would snap the dragon out of his mental fugue. He took a single step toward Toothless and was rewarded with two pole slaps to his hands by Second Random. His hands stinging from the hits, Hiccup next found the staff right up to his forehead, Second Random glaring at him for trying such a predictable move. As up close as he was, he could now see weird markings crisscrossing the staff, though none of the symbols made any sense to Hiccup.

"I'd rather not leave any marks on you," she said, "but I think this next part will be easier if you aren't awake to cause us trouble."

She slammed the end of the staff hard into his forehead, and the last thing Hiccup registered was Alvin's hysterical and highly satisfied cackle as the world suddenly went black on him.

* * *

><p>The world did eventually lighten up again for Hiccup, though his initial impression was the world had rolled over him several times while he was asleep. His sleeping arrangements were lacking as well, a bed of hay his mattress and a cage as his room.<p>

"Hiccup?" asked a surprisingly worried-sounding Snotlout. Hiccup opened his eyes to see Snotlout resting in an adjacent cage, looking fairly miserable but otherwise unhurt. Hiccup heard shuffling sounds to his right and found Marcus in a third cage, also miserable. He perked up a little when he saw Hiccup stir, but said nothing. He wore the face someone made when you've come to realize that your life just went horribly wrong. Hiccup knew that face quite well.

"I'm awake, Snotlout," Hiccup grumbled, sitting up slowly and painfully. Besides the ache in his head where Random had smacked him, his muscles felt three times sorer than before. _Every part of his body _felt three times sorer than before. It was worse than the time he had tried to bulk up by wearing iron weights in his clothes.

"Random must have hit you pretty hard," Snotlout said. "You were out for hours."

"Hours?" Hiccup didn't know which was worst – the lost time or that one good thump to the head had put him out so long. Considering how he was feeling, he was lucky to be waking up at all. He peeked at the roof entrance and saw the first vestiges of blue sky peaking through the hole. It had to be close to sunrise; he'd been unconscious through most of the night.

"Toothless?" he said, part callout and part question. "Where is he?" Then he saw his dragon sprawled out across the room, not far from the stable section. His legs and wings were bound up and he had a muzzle attached to his snout to prevent fire breathing, but he didn't look injured. Toothless saw Hiccup rouse and the dragon immediately pitted his strength against his bindings, attempting to break them, but whoever tied him up knew how to keep a good dragon down. Toothless soon ceased his struggles, looking as miserable as the rest of them. Hiccup still thanked the gods that Toothless was alive, as were they all… though Hiccup wasn't feeling all that charitable toward Snotlout right now.

There were two guards stationed near the entrance to the room, and one of them abruptly left as Hiccup glanced their direction. Going to get Alvin or Random, no doubt. There had to be an interrogation in Hiccup's future.

"They've left us alone for the most part," stated Marcus in a low voice. "They took from you what they wanted, for whatever reason."

"Took from me what?" said Hiccup dumbly, right before he realized that his clothes were not the same anymore. He was wearing a simple shirt-and-pants outfit now, his sophisticated wing suit vacant from his body. Only his original boot remained, along with his prosthetic foot. He felt practically naked without his suit, but he was more mystified by its absence.

"Why… why would they take off my suit?" he asked.

"Beats me," said Snotlout. "I never wanted one of my own."

"I, too, am in the dark," said Marcus, sighing morosely. "It seems I was in the dark about many things."

"So you're going to sit there and tell me you didn't know you hired the leader of the Outcasts as your… whatever-you-call-it manager?" said Hiccup, feeling too feeble to place much accusation in his tone.

"Random hired him, Chief Hiccup," defended Marcus. "I didn't know anything about the Viking tribes around here. I didn't think much of Standish… but he was cheap. You have to believe me, I had no idea he had such a… reputation."

"But you know now?"

"Your bodyguard filled me in," explained Marcus, gesturing at Snotlout. "It doesn't shock me that Standish… Alvin… is a turncoat. But Random…" He trailed off, his defeated look returning and sticking.

Hiccup turned his accusatory eyes on Snotlout. "Speaking of shocking examples of betrayal…."

"I didn't know about Alvin, Hiccup," Snotlout meekly replied. "I didn't know Random was going to pull any of this."

"But you knew she was pulling _something_, because you were pulling it with her." Hiccup rechecked his wording. "That sounded better in my head, but you get the gist."

"I'm in a cage, too," Snotlout said, waving at his confines. "Obviously I'm not part of her plans."

"But she knew about _our_ plans," said Hiccup. "Alvin and Random were prepared for us, and the fact that Astrid and the others haven't rescued us by now means our algae solution didn't pan out. Gods help me, Snotlout, but if you told her…"

The guilty look on Snotlout's face was all the answer Hiccup needed. "So you did. Snotlout, I think I might literally feed you to Toothless this time."

"It isn't like that, Hiccup," Snotlout replied hurriedly. "This was a business deal. Random came to me saying she needed our combustion gas, nothing else. It didn't sound dangerous… well, not dangerous to Berk. All I was supposed to do was make you want to do trade with Marcus, and make sure you didn't ruin something good for Berk with your, you know, Hiccupy ways."

"Good for Berk, or good for you?" Hiccup angrily shot back.

"I…" Snotlout thought about his answer, sighing as he realized he didn't have any good ones. "Okay, I admit that I was going to get part of the profits for helping you make a deal with Marcus, but Berk gets all the rest."

"Right, Snotlout," said Hiccup, his voice dripping with disdain. "You also get to come off looking like the guy who made it all happen, as well as getting one up on the new chief."

The guilt drained from Snotlout's face, replaced by a growing pool of resentment. "You know, some of us don't have your Gods-blessed life, Hiccup. Ever since you came back from saving the world, my dad has started treating me differently. Oh, he's perfectly happy about his son in public, but now he has these little disapproving looks that he gives me when he thinks nobody's looking. I know what he's saying. 'Snotlout, my son, why aren't you in charge of the Dragon Squad? Why aren't you as famous as Hiccup? Why don't you have a wife yet so you can move out of the basement?' And I hate those looks, I really do, but I can't exactly do much about it, not with you and Astrid around being heroes all the time. So, yeah, maybe I was tired of you getting the glory and the girl and everything you ever wanted. I was trying something different, trying to bring some wealth to our village and get the credit for it. Can you really blame me?"

"Uh, yes, I can pretty much blame you, Snotlout," said Hiccup. "I don't know where you get the idea that I've had a Gods-blessed life, but I'm not in the mood to compare your life to mine. You can blame me for your difficulties all you want, but what really stands in your way is your own abrasive personality, your selfish attitude. The most important lesson my dad ever taught me was that being a good person meant knowing that there are times you have to put the good of others before you. Too bad that's a lesson you don't seem to get."

Snotlout tried to maintain his resentful mood, but a new round of guilt was fighting to gain control of his face. "But… I was thinking about others. I was thinking of Berk."

"If that was really true, Snotlout, then you should have told me about your dealings with Random as soon as she came to you, and you _definitely _shouldn't have told her about our own plans."

Marcus sighed again, drawing Hiccup's attention back his direction. "I take it that I never really stood a chance, Chief Hiccup."

Hiccup paused as he considering his answer. "I don't know, Marcus. I would like to have given you a fair shake, but I don't have the heart to support making weapons like these."

"_I _like them, though," interjected Alvin, coming into the room and immediately attracting all the attention. He had a compact dragon-stick in his hands, and he seemed to be admiring it as he walked around to the front of the cages. "Who needs a dragon when you can carry these babies around?"

"So what happened to you, Alvin?" said Hiccup, doing his best to keep up his angry glare despite the rampant discomfort coursing through his flesh. "Last I checked, you were leading an army, not doing middle management. You also had an island."

"And last I checked, you weren't Chief of anything except the Isle of How-To-Be-A-Pain-In-My-Rear," countered Alvin. "Funny how things change." He adopted a weirdly wistful expression all of a sudden. "It's a shame what happened to your father, though."

"Why would you care?" replied Hiccup. "I thought you hated him."

Alvin pulled up a supply crate and sat his massive frame upon it, giving Hiccup his full consideration. "I suppose I did," admitted Alvin. "There was lots of bad blood between us. But there was a time we were friends, in the days of our youth before I got all treacherous on everyone and got exiled. We had some good times… I may have had a few too many good times for my own good, but what is life without a few mistakes?"

"Mistakes like the ones that get you kicked off Berk?" said Hiccup. "Or mistakes that made you abandon Outcast Island?"

Alvin laughed at Hiccup's unsubtle attempt to get information out of him. "Chief Hiccup – I don't think I'm going to get used to saying that. Well, one of the things you'll learn as a chief is that you never have as much control as you think you do. Take me as an example. There I was, coming back from my latest failed treasure hunt to find ancient artifacts that would give me unbridled power, a quest I started thanks to your friend, the Outlander, and I'm staring right into a fleet of ships parked at my island. Turns out they belong to some two-bit tyrant named Drago, and they were looking for recruits for some kind of major operation. They wanted as many men as possible, and they'd even take our dragons off our hands. Of course, this would all be free of charge, no monetary recompense of any type. Naturally, I politely objected – and my own men ran me off. They ran _me_ off, the guy who put Outcast Island on the map. I guess there might have been some dissention in the ranks, what with all the failed invasions of Berk and the Gunnarr blockades, and some of the men thinking that chasing after mystical weapons was a fool's errand, and… Well, what I'm saying is that they overreacted. A handful of my men stayed loyal, but the rest went and joined that… that son-of-a-devil Drago, and not a single thank-you for all my hard work."

Alvin laughed again, this time more cruelly. "Joke was on them, though, wasn't it? That's what happens when you bet on the wrong horse. As for me, my crew and I were starving out on the North Sea, unable to find safe harbor due to my sterling reputation, when Random shows up and offers me a job." He gave Marcus a sadistic glance. "And by the way, not the job you thought you were hiring me for."

"Which was what, exactly?" Marcus replied.

"That part is really for me to explain," broke in Random's voice, the woman casually entering the room along with ten other men, most of them clad in leather armor and helmets that hid their identities. Random, whichever Random it was, was similarly dressed, though she had yet to don a helmet. One of the men carried the ASD, and all of them wore belts, holsters, or slings that carried their small-sized dragon sticks, spare gas canisters, and pouches of ball bearing ammo. The men went past the cages and stopped at the stables, waiting for the ASD wielder to start cranking. And crank it he did, the faint whine returning to Hiccup's ears. Hiccup looked Toothless's way and saw the dragon's eyes glaze over again, back under the thrall of the device's siren call, as were the other dragons as they obediently allowed the men to place saddles on them and prep them for riding. It angered Hiccup greatly to see his buddy reduced to an unthinking state of existence, though he had to wonder why Toothless was tied up so thoroughly if getting his cooperation was as easy as turning a handle. Random must not trust the ASD as much as she let on.

Or perhaps the answer was Toothless. Hiccup noticed how the dragon's eyes seemed to grow more focused, then less focused, as time went on, the dragon shaking his head on occasion as he fought the hypnotic sounds that were assailing him. He never quite shook it off, but he never quite accepted it, either. Maybe in time, Toothless could be trained to shut it out, and if Toothless could then perhaps other dragons could as well.

Hiccup realized he was getting ahead of himself. How about figuring a way out of this cage first?

"It's a great device, that ASD thingy," said Random, coming over to the cages and standing right before Hiccup. "The dragons listen to whoever wears the device. Apparently dragons obey the 'source' of the Alpha signal much like bees obey the whims of their queen. But it's not perfect. Peaceful dragons don't really threaten people the same way a snarling, flame-spewing monster can. Good thing we have these dragon-sticks to make up for it, along with one extra special goody."

Two more men came into the room, rolling what looked like spherical steel gas canisters ahead of them like empty wine barrels heading off for disposal. Half as big as each man, the canisters looked like they weighed a considerable amount, and once they reached the dragons the men proceeded to hook each device to a pair of dragons through rope and leather straps.

Marcus recognized what they were, and the knowledge snapped him out of the funk he was in. "Those… those are storage canisters. Random, do you have any idea how dangerous those are?"

"Very much so," she replied confidently. "I've learned a few things from you over our stint together, Marcus. I've filled these canisters with a special brew of combustion gas that burns very potently. The canisters are rigged with an internal device that sparks up when dropped from a great height. We're safe right now, but if you were to, say, have it fall from a great height… Big boom. I've been using a smaller version of these canisters up until now, but this time we're going for wholesale destruction."

"You've corrupted the purpose of my inventions," said Marcus, putting more energy into his words as the rage within him escalated.

"I've _liberated_ them, Marcus," she replied nice and calmly. "You have a creative mind, Marcus, and I can't say I didn't enjoy working with you, but for a guy with such a great head for destruction… you're just so _boring_! Seriously, who creates weapons with the idea of keeping the peace? Where's the money in that? More importantly, where's the excitement?"

"Is that what this is all about?" said Hiccup. "Money and excitement?"

Random smiled unnervingly at Hiccup. "Isn't that enough? It certainly motivated Snot-boy over here to turn off his brain and help me out."

"You tricked me," defended Snotlout, gripping the bars of his cage as if hoping to pop them free just with anger alone. "I wouldn't have helped you if I'd known what you were really up to."

Random walked over to Snotlout's cage and stared back at him with unruffled eyes. "Actually, I think you would have. In fact, I think you still will."

Snotlout laughed in her face. "Sure, right. You have a device that can sway a man's mind as well?"

"No, I merely have the old standbys – power and greed. You see, Snotlout, I created the dragon raiders with the idea that they would make a few visits to the settlements around the North Sea and sow fear into the hearts of the populace. It's a relatively new plan – up until now, I figured that there were plenty of pirates and Outcasts and hostile Viking tribes and good old human nature to create a demand for Marcus's weapons without any help from me. But the Outcasts are gone, the pirates are fleeing, and the Vikings are learning to stop being so warmongering. And why?"

Random pointed straight at Hiccup. "This guy. Preaching peace, protecting people, promoting tolerance… it's rubbing off more than anyone realizes. A guy with enough dragon firepower to conquer the entire North Sea… and you're being _nice_. Do you know how boring _nice_ is?

"Very?" said Snotlout.

"Yes, very. No one writes stories where everyone gets along. It's also bad for business when your primary export involves death dealing. So I wanted to do a bit of scare-mongering to get the warmongering flowing again, but I knew Marcus wouldn't go for it. He seems to… admire Hiccup's way of doing things. So I had to do it quietly, create a situation that would kill two dragons with one arrow – scare the populace while taking Hiccup out of the equation. Hence, the dragon raiders. And I'd say it was working. Most of the victims are jumping to the conclusion that it's dragons from Berk. After all, who else rides dragons around these parts? If we make Berk into the enemy, suddenly people will _need_ weapons like ours."

She shot Alvin a baleful glance as she continued. "It would've gone more smoothly if _somebody_ had kept his attacks further away from Berk. Tipping off the Berkians wasn't part of the plan, and neither was trying to _kill_ Hiccup."

"And here I thought you still needed me to teach you how to train dragons, Alvin," said Hiccup. "Why the change in heart?"

Alvin held up his dragon-stick to illustrate his answer. "Dragon training is so last year, Hiccup. With this kind of technology, my men and I will be total scourges everywhere we go. So it's not like I need you alive now, and while I might feel sentimental toward your dad, that sentimentality doesn't extend to _you_. One could argue that I'm in this deplorable state of employment because of you." Random shot him another baleful glance, and he added, "But perhaps I was too hasty. After all, I only had to wait a little longer."

Hiccup caught the veiled danger within Alvin's words. "Wait for what?"

Random gave him her full attention, and Hiccup saw something truly sinister within those dispassionate orbs. Random wasn't hiding anything now, and the true depth of her amoral attitude was out in force.

"Did you like that dark bitter drink Marcus offered you?" she teased. "I can't say I like it. I always have to add something to it, so I figured you might want the same. Of course, a bitter drink is a good way to mask the bitterness of a particularly exotic toxin I came across a while back. A very rare snake produces it, and it's the perfect poison for making your victim look like they died of natural causes. It takes a few days for it to run its course, and all the while it resembles a really bad case of the flu."

A wellspring of pure panic rose up in Hiccup as he absorbed the news, but his body was too sore to allow him the privilege of standing up and attempting to throttle Random, even though there were bars between him and her. His sudden illness made sense now, but not in a good way, and the weight of the revelation sat upon his chest like an overweight Gronckle. He'd faced death on numerous occasions before, but it was always something he could outthink, outfight, or outmaneuver. But this was Death crawling through his body, coursing through his veins, and he had no escape from it this time. Anger kept him from breaking down into full despair, anger at Alvin and Random and this mad plot they had put into motion.

Marcus looked devastated by the news, and Snotlout stared at Hiccup as if the young chief had transformed into a walking corpse (which wasn't far from the truth, if Random was to be believed).

Snotlout turned back to Random, still wearing his horrified expression, and said, "You… you can't do this… I didn't want… I never wanted…"

Random reached into the cage and grabbed Snotlout's chin, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "Listen and listen well, Snot-boy. I still need Berk's dragons to give me the gas that makes these weapons work. Your chief only has a few more hours to live, but you can still go on to have a happy, healthy partnership with me. If you play along and tell your village that his death was a fluke illness, you can be the one to orchestrate trade between your village and my enterprise. I meant what I said – you'll get your share of the profits, and the village will be able to buy nice things."

"You're insane," butted in Hiccup. "Ignoring the fact that you're murdering me, why would Snotlout have the village supply someone who plans on turning everyone against Berk?"

She ignored Hiccup and kept her rigid gaze on Snotlout. "He speaks truth, Snot-boy. But it's not like you can do anything about it. After today's broad-daylight raid, after all the carnage I'm about to cause, Berk will become the reigning threat for the entire region. They will hate you. They will fear you. But they will dare not attack you, and the amazing thing is that they may even trade with you, because money trumps ethics every time. Our little business deal will be kept secret from the world, and Berk will stay safe and isolated. And with my contacts, I can make sure you'll have ways of trading for the good stuff. So, really, Berk loses nothing it can't live without, and might gain a lot. And you will become the richest man in Berk."

"Snotlout, don't listen to her," pleaded Hiccup. "You know you can't trust her."

"And you should listen to him instead?" replied Random, letting go of Snotlout's chin and stepping back from the cage. "Is your life better because of him, Snot-boy? He offers you the life you know. I've offering you the life you deserve. Which will it be?"

Snotlout was silent for a time, glancing between Hiccup and Random regularly. Indecision and doubt was etched onto his face, a rare look for a Viking who had gone most of his life escaping monumental decisions, especially ones involving betrayal and treason. Hiccup desperately hoped that the Snotlout he'd seen care deeply for his pet dragon remained inside him, that the Snotlout who had fought at Hiccup's side against giant dragons and metal monsters and belligerent Outcasts wouldn't push aside his moral compass for a venomous get-rich scheme. He had to hope that whatever animosity Snotlout had built up wasn't enough to make him forsake his friends and his village.

Then the doubt vanished from Snotlout's face. He gave Hiccup a new look now, one of finality. A dark look that signaled that something had shifted inside him, and it filled Hiccup with much despair.

Snotlout turned to Random and said, "What do you need me to do?"


	12. Moving In The Right Direction

**Chapter Eleven: Moving In The Right Direction**

Hiccup felt so much anger at the moment that had Toothless been able to open his mouth, he would have ordered the dragon to toast Snotlout on sight. He never had many expectations for Snotlout. In fact, he was happy to have the guy doing very little, since when he did pursue an action it was usually in the form of tormenting Fishlegs or causing a diplomatic incident with a visiting emissary. But when push came to shove, Hiccup had believed that Snotlout had his limits, that he would back the right side when the going got tough. And yet here he was, pulling one utterly and devastatingly final surprise.

Random looked at Snotlout for a few moments, inspecting his expression for falseness or deception. It didn't take long to convince her that his sentiment was real, and a smile creased her lips. "Now _this_ is the Snotlout that I know, the guy who's going to make a real name for himself."

Alvin cackled at Snotlout's acquiescence, but his laughter was aimed at Hiccup. "Ah, a friend betraying a friend. That sure takes me back."

"He wasn't that much of a friend," said Snotlout. "So can I get out of this cage now?"

"Not yet," said Random. "The recently turned are dangerous to trust until they demonstrate an act of true commitment. When I get back from the raid, I'll think of something."

"Can't you move me away from Hiccup?" pleaded Snotlout. "What if he gets me sick somehow? I don't think he's happy with me."

"It's poison, not a disease," said Random, "and I have antidotes for that kind of thing. After all, accidents do happen. But if you're so worried about your chief getting revenge on you, just keep away from his side of the cage for a few hours. The problem will take care of itself."

Hiccup heard the one word he needed to hear, the one ray of hope piercing the dark cloud that currently enveloped him – _antidote_. It was probably meant to be a tease, a little salt to rub in Hiccup's wounds since there was no way Hiccup was getting out of this cage by himself, but it was still hope, and he clung to it with all the vigor he had left.

"If that's all settled," said Alvin, standing up and looking expectantly at Random, "I suggest we get going. I need to get my dragon ready for…"

"You're staying here," declared Random.

Alvin's good mood faded quicker than a shadow at midday, and his next look was downright lethal. "I didn't hear you right."

"No, you did," she stated, not at all intimidated. "Your performance lately has been lacking. I'm taking care of this raid personally. You're staying here and making sure our prisoners stay where they are."

"You're kidding," said Alvin. "_I'm_ the raider, not you."

"_I'm_ in charge, not you… unless you want to complain to the boss about it."

Alvin seemed to take that as a legitimate reason to back down, and he did. While Hiccup found the whole exchange confusing, it was Snotlout that asked Hiccup's question for him.

"Isn't Marcus your boss?" he asked.

Random gave Snotlout a knowing smirk. "Only in his mind. I answer to someone with more clout, someone who likes how I do things… and someone you don't need to know about."

"Lies, lies, lies," commented Marcus. "Is there anything real about you, Random?"

"Marcus, there's no need for insults," Random replied. "This was never personal."

"You better believe it is," he shot back, his voice heating up. "And for all your planning, you seem to be forgetting that you don't know how to manufacture the weapons without me, and I will not help you make any more of them." He glanced Hiccup's way, pity gracing his face. "That is, unless you spare Chief Hiccup's life."

Random groaned in irritation. "Oh, how I _hate_ noble sentiments and futile posturing. Let's get something out of the way, Marcus. You _will_ continue to produce more dragon-sticks, even after Hiccup here shuffles off his mortal coil. I am great at motivational speeches, and you happen to be a guy with a conscience. Believe me when I say that I will have no problem finding ways to prod you along. And down the road, you might even realize how much fun and money there is in arms dealing. It'll certainly make your life easier."

Marcus had no reply to that, and he slumped back into his depression. Hiccup mentally thanked him for the attempt, despite its ineffectiveness. At least Marcus hadn't thrown him to the wolves like Snotlout, who couldn't even bring himself to look Hiccup's way any longer.

As if this parade of terrible moments wasn't long enough, a new person entered the room and strode up to Random, wearing a full-body suit that Hiccup had been very intimate with not so long ago. The new person was Random's double from before, a dead ringer to the purple-haired sociopath, and she filled out Hiccup's wing suit quite nicely.

"How do I look?" the twin asked, spinning around to show off everything. "Good thing Hiccup's about my size. Too bad we couldn't get his helmet."

"His suit is distinctive enough without it," commented Original Random. "Just don't try to fly it."

"Awww," Second Random replied. "Way to spoil the fun."

Hiccup now understood why he'd been stripped of his suit, and why Alvin was getting grounded for this particular raid. Random had mentioned that this outing was in the daytime, which meant she was done with surprise night attacks. She wanted her victims to know unequivocally that it was Berk behind the raids. How better to lay that foundation than to have Hiccup himself lead the attack? Such a plan also meant no infamous Outcasts on the team.

Snotlout appeared more intrigued than frightened by all this. "So are you two sisters or something?" he asked.

"Or something," said the twin with a smile.

"What does that mean?" said Snotlout.

"Don't sweat the thinking, Snot-boy," said original Random. "It only leads to headaches." She motioned for her twin to join the dragon raiders, then faced Alvin one last time while her twin walked off. "The only dead guy I want to see when I get back is Hiccup, Alvin. Any other corpses and I won't be pleased."

Alvin bowed low in a rather exaggerated gesture of servitude. "Yes, majesty. I'll even keep the troublesome Night Fury alive despite the amount of pain it's caused me over the years."

"Think business, Alvin," she replied, "and you might figure out why."

"Guess you've got it all figured out, Random," said Hiccup, trying to sound defiant despite the increasingly heavy malaise that engulfed him. "Alvin used to think he had all the answers, too. So did Cervantes and the Alchemist. Look where they all ended up."

Random paused before responding, almost as if Hiccup's words had found a soft spot in her shell. She had no smile on her face. "The difference between them and me, Hiccup, is that I don't have great expectations. This isn't conquering the world or destroying civilization. This is just business, and business is always best when it's _booming_."

* * *

><p>The dragon raiders left a minute later, swarming out of the hole in the roof like a pack of lethargic birds. Hiccup couldn't help but notice the slower pace of the mesmerized dragons, how they were slower to react than normal dragons and how they had to be led about like old men with poor eyesight. Once they got airborne they had more life to them, but not by a wide margin. It was a cold comfort considering how much firepower the raiders were packing, including the two gas containers converted into explosives.<p>

Both Randoms donned helmets to hide their identities, and Hiccup had to admit that Second Random might just pass for him if you had but a vague familiarity with Hiccup's particular style. To an unsuspecting village, it would be enough.

Alvin was the unhappiest of them all, wanting nothing more than to take his anger out on his prisoners but wise enough not to do it. He stared at Hiccup for an uncomfortably long time, then abruptly laughed and said, "I just can't stay mad at her. If I were twenty years younger, I'd woo her. But that doesn't mean I have to stick around and baby-sit. I'll come back in a few hours to watch Hiccup's final moments. In the meantime…"

He pulled his dragon-stick from his belt and added, "I'm going to improve my aim. I just need to find a volunteer."

Alvin walked off to find his "volunteer," leaving a solitary guard in the room to keep an eye on things. Hiccup was happy to see the brute leave, but his situation didn't improve with Alvin's absence. Marcus was too sullen to be any help, Snotlout had changed teams, and Toothless was as tied up as before, though his eyes were clear and cognizant again with the ASD out of range, the dragon looking at Hiccup with a deep sense of sorrow and frustration. Toothless must have picked up on Hiccup's deteriorating health – maybe he smelled it on him, or the dragon had understood enough of Random's words to catch on.

Hiccup attempted to get to his feet so he could fiddle with the cage's lock, but his legs felt rubbery, sapped of their strength. He had precious little energy in his limbs – anger and determination spurred what few efforts he could manage. It was times like these he wished he had his dad's granite-like constitution. _Poison?_ his dad would say. _Bah, I drink poison for breakfast_.

He might try talking to Snotlout, but Hiccup was pretty darn sure that he only had insults left for the traitor. After all the chances he'd given Snotlout, all the times Hiccup had turned the other cheek or ignored Snotlout's moronic, self-absorbed…

"Hey, there, fellow Outcast," said Snotlout, aiming his words at the lone guard in the room. "Can we talk for a sec?"

The guard, already bored, glanced Snotlout's way. "Yeah?"

"You want to do me a favor and move me to a cage away from the sick guy?" Snotlout thumbed back Hiccup's way, as if it wasn't obvious who he was talking about.

"Can't do that," replied the guard. "Random and Alvin want you caged."

"I'll still be caged," cajoled Snotlout. "And… I'll tell you a secret that will get you on Random's good side."

Hiccup stopped moving for now, not wanting to draw attention while Snotlout was talking. Personally, Hiccup hoped the guard relented and moved him. He could do without Snotlout's company.

Snotlout pointed at Toothless, which immediately raised Hiccup's blood pressure. "I figured out why Random wants the Night Fury alive. It's because of his combustion gas. You ever see a Night Fury's plasma bolts in action? They can melt steel in no time flat. Think of what you could do with that kind of power."

"Snotlout!" Hiccup cried out, a lot more feebly than he intended.

"See what I mean?" continued Snotlout. "His soon-to-be-ex-rider knows what kind of gold mine we have in that dragon. Doesn't like me talking about it."

The guard did look intrigued by the idea, though he maintained a healthy glow of skepticism. "What's that got to do with me?"

"Night Furies are dangerous and uncooperative. You need _somebody _who knows how to handle them. Random will be grateful to the one guy who can, and I just happen to know a few tricks. You move me to another cage, I'll tell you some of them."

Hiccup wasn't sure what Snotlout was trying to do. Snotlout didn't know squat about Toothless. He had knowledge of Nightmares because he rode one, but he had no interest in other species. What was Snotlout trying to pull here?

The guard seemed to consider the idea, but instead of replying to Snotlout's offer he turned and left the room. Hiccup found a certain degree of satisfaction in seeing Snotlout rebuffed, and he darkly hoped the trend would continue. But then the guard reappeared with a set of keys in his hands, and Hiccup's satisfaction did an about-face. The guard really was falling for it after all.

"First, you tell me a secret," said the guard. "Then I'll move you."

Snotlout shrugged his agreement. "Better get close, then, so no one else can hear it."

The guard closed in and pressed his face up to the cage bars, bearing his ear. Snotlout leaned in close and whispered something to him, a sentence that created a perplexed look on the guard's face. The guard backed up slightly and said, "What does my mother's weight have to do with this?"

Snotlout's reply? Grabbing the guard by his shirt collar and pulling him hard into the steel bars, smashing the man's forehead and dazing him immediately. Snotlout repeated the move once more for good measure, holding the guard's unconscious body to the cage with one hand while retrieving the keys with the other. He then let the cataleptic man slump down to the ground, taking a moment to see if the noise attracted more guards. Thankfully Alvin had commenced practice with his weapon, the workshop reverberating with dragon-stick blasts, and no one came to investigate.

Confused, this time in an almost happy way, Hiccup watched Snotlout find the right key and let himself out of the cage. He immediately walked to Hiccup's cage and released him as well, standing at the doorway and offering his hand to his chief. At first, Hiccup was too overwhelmed with this newest abrupt reversal to do much more than stare at Snotlout, then he took Snotlout's hand and got to his feet, his legs wobbly but still serviceable.

"I take it this means you're not on Team Random," Hiccup commented.

Some measure of guilt came back into Snotlout's expression. "It was… tempting, I won't lie. Random knows how to speak my language. But she doesn't know me _that _well. Also, I'm pretty sure Astrid would've figured it out eventually, and then she'd actually kill me this time."

"Yeeaaah, she's good at that," replied Hiccup.

"So… does this mean I'm not exiled from the village?" Snotlout asked optimistically.

"It's a step in the right direction," Hiccup replied, which was as much credit as Hiccup was willing to grant Snotlout right now. He then motioned at Marcus's cage. "Let out Marcus. I'll get Toothless."

"I don't think you're in any shape to get anyone," said Snotlout. "You better sit down and rest."

"This isn't something that'll get better on its own, Snotlout," said Hiccup. "I need to find the antidote."

"Random's personal chamber," suggested Marcus, who had snapped out of his dark mood at some point and now gave the two men a determined stare from the confines of his cage. "I know where she keeps her possessions. If there's a cure, it's in her room."

"And I'm guessing it's on the other side of the workshop," said Hiccup. "Past Alvin and any other goons left on the island."

"Yes, how'd you know?" Marcus asked.

"Because that's how these things work," Hiccup lamented.

* * *

><p>Toothless rewarded Hiccup with a tongue bath once he was freed of his restraints, though the dragon did ease up after one of his enthusiastic licks almost toppled Hiccup. The dragon kept his greatly-worried look on Hiccup, aware that Hiccup was quite ill and getting worse by the second. Hiccup chanced a look at his own skin and saw the unhealthy grayness in it, like an overcast sky that should have been clear. He wanted to reassure Toothless that this would all turn out okay, but Toothless wasn't a naïve child. Instead, Toothless allowed Hiccup to lean on him as they followed Marcus and Snotlout out the open doorway to the rest of the workshop, having made sure that the hapless guard was securely muzzled in his new home, the cage that Hiccup had occupied previously.<p>

The four of them took cover behind an inactive forge as they entered the main workshop, the facility all but shut down save for the hostile hiss of the steam pipes that regulated the island's natural steam vents. There were sporadic bangs and shouts from the far side of the workshop, but otherwise there were no signs of life in the immediate vicinity.

Snotlout had swiped the guard's dragon-stick and held it, quite keen to try it out. "Is this thing loaded?" he asked, carelessly waving it around like it was a feather duster. "I can't tell by looking at it."

Marcus scowled and took it away from him before Snotlout fired it by accident. "Let's leave the dragon-stick to me, thank you."

"How many men do we have to deal with, Marcus?" Hiccup questioned.

Marcus pondered the answer. "Random… both Randoms took off with ten men, which leaves twelve more, not including Alvin. Four of them were workers I handpicked myself, but that doesn't mean Random didn't sway them to her cause."

"Doesn't sound too bad," said Hiccup, patting Toothless on the head. "One Night Fury evens the odds rather nicely."

Marcus scowled again, but this time at Hiccup. "There are supply containers stationed near the barracks, close to Random's room, Chief Hiccup. Many of those containers are full."

Hiccup caught his meaning and his eyes went wide. Snotlout didn't and shrugged in confusion. "And that's bad I take it?"

It was Hiccup's turn to do the scowling at Snotlout. "If you want half the workshop to go up in flames from a misplaced fireball, then no, it's not bad."

_Now_ Snotlout understood the problem, though his bravado remained unquenched. "Okay, we'll just go in and beat up everybody."

"They have dragon-sticks, Snotlout," said Hiccup impatiently. "You'll have more holes in you than a rotten dragon tooth before you take five steps." Snotlout's bluster evaporated at the thought of getting thoroughly perforated.

"We need to trap as many as we can," said Marcus. "Create a diversion or lure them into one of my supply rooms."

"What about the stables?" said Hiccup. "Toothless and I could lure them inside and fly out the roof exit. You guys could…"

A harsh, screaming ricochet interrupted the rest of Hiccup's plan as the wall next to Snotlout's head acquired an ugly puncture wound. Snotlout yelped and ducked down while Hiccup looked to find the culprit. The shooter was a wide-eyed Outcast halfway down the room, holding a smoking dragon-stick and cursing his poor aim. The man either had good eyes or good luck for he had spied them from across the workshop, his footsteps covered by Alvin's weapon practice.

Incensed by the harsh noise and immediate danger, Toothless did what any sensible beast would do. Before Hiccup could stop him, the dragon chucked a fireball right at the feet of the Outcast, one of his concussion-blasts designed to incapacitate but not kill. The Outcast went soaring off his feet, dragon-stick flying out of his hands, and landed ten feet further away in a groaning heap.

"Bud, don't do that!" cried out Hiccup at Toothless, looking the dragon straight in the eye. "We could all go up in smoke next time. No fireballs!" Toothless seemed baffled by the order, not comprehending the powder keg issue before them, but he trusted Hiccup enough to nod his head in compliance.

The boom of the dragon-stick had rebounded like thunder inside the facility, and Toothless's counterattack hadn't been all that quiet either. In no time at all several of Alvin's men began to emerge from the far side of the workshop, moving their way towards the disturbance, weapons drawn. Hiccup's group ducked behind the forge again while Hiccup tried to keep an eye on the approaching goons from between a crack in the machinery. One of the goons found the crumpled form of their compatriot, his clothes still smoldering from the plasma blast, and two men went to assist. The others kept on coming, their faces grim, holding their dragon-sticks ahead of them, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Marcus brought out his own dragon-stick and pumped it. "I don't suppose you have reinforcements coming anytime soon," he whispered.

Hiccup didn't reply. He glanced at Toothless but the dragon had no response to give, certainly no reply that would explain how he found the island when Astrid hadn't.

The forge soon proved to be an inadequate hiding spot once again when one of the Outcasts spotted Toothless's tail sticking out from behind cover. The Outcast got one yell off before Marcus poked his arm out of cover and fired his dragon-stick at the man. He missed by a mile, but the noise caused the advancing goons to take cover and open fire on their position. An ear-shattering refrain filled the workshop as projectiles collided with the forge, bouncing off the hard steel or peppering the ground and walls all around. Toothless got extremely agitated from the noise assault and growled out his outrage, though he stopped short of returning fire. Marcus managed to reload his weapon with a single round he found in one of his spare pockets, but it was the only shot they had left. Snotlout had swiped just the weapon, no extra gas or ball bearings. As for Snotlout himself, the big brave Viking was currently shutting his eyes while begging the gods to make him invisible.

The barrage felt like it would go on forever, but when it abruptly stopped Hiccup came to realize that less than a minute had gone by. His ears still ringing from the din, he nonetheless heard the ugly voice of Alvin threatening his men with extreme hurting if they didn't stop firing this instant.

"The next man who fires will be eating their dragon-stick," he warned. "And as for you, Chief Dragon Training Conqueror Whatever, I can only assume that the guy I left in charge of your imprisonment will be needing a good flogging for incompetence. You want to do me a favor and get back in your cage without any trouble?"

"I don't think that's happening, Alvin," Hiccup yelled back, chancing a look and seeing a total of nine men training their weapons his way, Alvin included. "Better tell your men to keep their distance if they don't want their butts extra toasty."

Alvin laughed, and Hiccup doubted Alvin had found any humor in Hiccup's words. "Let's lay all our cards out on the table, Hiccup. You're not letting your pet off his leash because all the combustion gas stored in this building might blow us all to Valhalla, and I can't have my men shoot you and your pals without Random using my guts for garters. How about we make a deal – your life for mine?"

"Right, Alvin," said Hiccup with a healthy dollop of snark. "You expect me to trust you enough to do a deal?"

"It's not like you have a choice," replied Alvin. "Death is knocking at your door, and you can't fight or fly your way out of its clutches this time. But I'm not much better off than you. Random is the type of gal who'll toss me out the door when the time is right, just like she did to Marcus. I figured that out when she decided to take control of my dragon raiders. So I'm thinking I might try living all civilized back in Berk, me and the men who'll want to come. You're chief now, so you could pardon me with a word. In exchange, I let you have the antidote. Doesn't that sound like a fair trade, with everyone getting to live and all?"

"Everyone except the people Random is about to kill," said Hiccup.

"Can't do much about that. But then, it's not like you know anyone at Tempest Point, right?"

Hiccup started at the name of Random's target. Tempest Point – it felt like Random was deliberately making things personal, and it might have enraged him if he had any energy left in him for rage. He was doing well just holding onto Toothless's neck and not flopping to the ground.

Snotlout looked at Hiccup hopefully. "Can we for once _not_ do something heroically stupid and just take the deal?"

"You don't let vipers into your home, Snotlout," stated Marcus, his dragon-stick at the ready and a clear resolve in his eyes. "It's a lesson I failed to learn."

"He's right, Snotlout," Hiccup said, weighing all the bad options before him. Fighting was too risky with all those dragon-sticks in play and the threat of a massive explosion looming over them. Surrender? No thank you. They could still fly away from the island, but that would seal Hiccup's fate for sure, as well as ensuring Random would pull off her plan unhindered, with lives lost and Berk blamed.

But it wasn't like he had a better plan, and with no cover between them and the stables or the main exit, they'd need a distraction. It was looking like his time as chief was going to be a short one, but he could still buy the others the time they needed to escape and warn Berk.

Hiccup motioned for Marcus and Snotlout to get closer, so that Alvin wouldn't overhear them talking. "Okay," he started, "here's the plan…"

"Not doing it," said Snotlout.

"What? I didn't even say…"

"You're either surrendering or sacrificing your life," insisted Snotlout. "I'm not letting you hog all the glory _again_. Let me do it."

Hiccup didn't know if Snotlout was being selfish, honorable, or both. "Snotlout, I only have hours left."

"All the more reason for you to get going and let me do my thing," reasoned Snotlout.

"What say you, O mighty chief?" demanded Alvin impatiently, a demand Hiccup chose to ignore.

"I can't let you do this, Snotlout," whispered Hiccup.

Snotlout smirked. "Oh, will I get in trouble? I'm already _in_ trouble. Just…" A shadow crossed over his face for a moment, then it faded as his eyes grew resolute. "Just do me a favor and don't tell my dad how I got us into this mess."

Before Hiccup could stop him, Snotlout ran out of cover and into the open, holding his hands up and trying to look as harmless as possible. Hiccup tensed, awaiting the barrage of flying steel that would cut Snotlout down, but it didn't come. The only response was an order from Alvin for his men to hold their fire.

"Hey, guys," said Snotlout in a surprisingly casual manner. "I've been talking to Hiccup and he was about to pardon everyone when I said we could get a better deal, so here I am to deal."

"You've got to be kidding," whispered Hiccup.

"You've got to be kidding," said Alvin. "I'm being charitable just letting you all live."

"You can't kill me, Alvin," replied Snotlout. "I'm Random's go-to guy on Berk."

"You're her go-to _stooge_ on Berk," Alvin fired back, "and stooges are replaceable."

Hiccup had Toothless hunker down so he could quietly mount the saddle while remaining under cover. He had Marcus get on behind him, the weapon tinkerer obeying without question. He wasn't ready to abandon Snotlout to Alvin, but Snotlout was clearly ready to make his sacrifice a dead certainty, as he took one bold step after another toward Alvin, drawing his men's weapons away from Hiccup's hiding spot.

"Look, you don't want to make Random mad any more than I do," said Snotlout as he slowly advanced. "Think of all the money we'll lose out on if you betray her."

"Some things are worth more than all the wealth in the world," said Alvin. "Like breathing. I like breathing, and I bet you do too. And it's something you're about to stop doing if you don't drop to your knees _right now_."

Snotlout turned to glance back at Hiccup, a sad gleam in his eyes. But solid determination was in there as well, a warrior's determination. It was a side of him that Hiccup rarely ever saw, the part of Snotlout that willingly put aside all his vain imaginings and selfish pursuits for the sake of others. Hiccup wished he had seen it more often, and that he wasn't seeing it right at the end of Snotlout's life, because the loutish Viking knew well that his next action would be his last one. Snotlout planned on becoming a meat-filled target dummy as atonement for his role in this mess. The dragon-sticks took several seconds to reload, which would give Toothless the time he needed to escape. Snotlout simply had to get the sticks to fire.

Snotlout faced Alvin and adopted his traditional disrespectful smile, full of mockery and defiance. "I guess you're going to have to make me, Alvin-boy."

Alvin might have been wise enough to know he was being played, but he was not one to brook impudence in front of his men. Alvin's face became a mask of rage and he stepped back to allow his men a full view of the dead man walking.

"Count of three, men," he coldly ordered. "Let's show Chief Hiccup how well these weapons work on the insanely stupid."

Alvin's men raised their weapons on the count of _one. _Snotlout closed his eyes on the count of _two._ And then the world became a cacophonous storm of light, smoke, and screaming as the word _three_ came out of Alvin's mouth…

At least, that's what Hiccup expected to happen. _Three _didn't happen. The actual words to come out of Alvin's mouth were _What the devil is this stuff?_

Much to everyone's confusion, and Snotlout's relief, there was an odd gas cloud sweeping into the workshop right about the time Alvin counted _one_. He hadn't noticed it at first, but as it gained opaqueness and density it became impossible to miss, collecting in every corner of the main workshop like a very localized fogbank. By the time it reached Hiccup's position behind the forge, a considerable cloud of it had formed inside the room. Hiccup took one whiff of it and instantly recognized the odor – Zippleback gas. Highly explosive, but only dangerous where flames were present. With the workshop shut down, the only possible combustion sources were Alvin's dragon-sticks and Toothless.

"Terrific, a gas leak," commented Alvin, wrinkling his nose. "Did one of you idiots break a supply container?"

"Who needs a supply container when you have the real thing?" spoke up a new voice, full of femininity and confidence. Upon hearing the wonderful voice, Hiccup chanced a more-exposed peek around the forge and saw Astrid standing at the main exit, her myssteel axe in hand and her dragon Beatrix right behind her, tail poised to sling some spikes Alvin's way.

Snotlout's relief was so great that he fell to his knees and spread his arms out wide in gratitude. "My hero!" he happily cried.

Alvin's men switched their aim to Astrid, but Alvin quickly hollered at them to lower their weapons. Astrid's smirk widened. "Good thinking, Alvin. It'd be embarrassing to meet your ancestors having gotten flash-fried by your own men's stupidity. Have them throw down their weapons."

Alvin had other ideas, grimacing menacingly as he picked up a large iron rod from a nearby workbench. "Way I see it, girl, this gas cloud means your dragon can't use its fire breath either. Which means a tussle is in order… and I like tussles." His men did drop their dragon-sticks, but only to free their hands up for the use of clubs and iron rods and other handy bludgeoning tools.

"Rush her," he ordered his men. "I've got the chief." As his men charged Astrid's position, Alvin turned and barreled right at Snotlout, knocking him aside with one heavy shoulder shove. Snotlout careened into a workbench, toppling it over and dazing him in the process. Alvin then circled the forge to find Hiccup, whom he found… atop one angry Night Fury, who immediately snapped at Alvin and forced the massive Viking back a step, Alvin swinging wildly to keep the dragon at bay.

Alvin's men found a similar surprise when the main doors became congested with dragons, Barf/Belch and Chomps barging their way inside and engaging the goon squad, with Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut right behind. Astrid had her axe spinning through the air and cleaving one man's iron rod in two while Beatrix unleashed a barrage of quills that pinned up two more men quite artistically. Chomps used another goon's makeshift weapon as an appetizer, while the Twins and Fishlegs pummeled their respective adversaries into submission. It wasn't even a real contest – having eschewed conventional weapons for their dragon-sticks, the goons were unprepared for a down-and-dirty fight with dragons and were quickly overwhelmed.

Alvin fared better, keeping free of Toothless's claws and teeth while the dragon darted about, each looking for an opening. Alvin was an experienced dragon fighter and he showed no fear as he jabbed and swung away, unable to land a hit on the dragon but showing no signs of quitting either.

"Alvin, can we dispense with the useless theatrics?" Hiccup asked, feeling way too poisoned to be riding an irate dragon right now. "You've already lost. I'll accept your surrender and even dump you on Outcast Island."

"My, how generous," said Alvin between swings. "Go back to that old wasteland with but a handful of men and the shirt on my back. Such a sweet prospect."

"It's better than you deserve," said Hiccup. "Most other chiefs would summarily execute you."

In a surprise move, Alvin stopped swinging and lowered his rod-club, the fight abruptly going out of him. The move shocked Hiccup, who figured that Alvin was one of those death-before-common-sense type of guys, and so he made the mistake of telling Toothless to ease up on Alvin. Toothless obeyed, and Alvin did throw down his rod… so that he could pull his dragon-stick from his belt, a fully loaded one at that. He didn't aim it at Hiccup or Toothless, but rather at the ground, his finger on the trigger, a grim and mirthless smile on his lips.

"What are you doing?" said Hiccup. "If you fire that…"

"Then we all go up together," finished Alvin. "You think I don't know that?"

"You'd rather die than go back to Outcast Island?"

"I'd rather die than lose to _you _again, Dragon Chief Whatever_._ I can't go anywhere else, I can't trust anyone else, and I've burned too many bridges to start over. So if you can't find it in your heart to forgive my crimes and let me come home again, then _nobody _is going home again."

Hiccup hated, absolutely hated, the idea of letting Alvin set foot in Berk. Even if he could forgive Alvin for the crimes that got him kicked off Berk in the first place, he'd done more than enough to earn permanent exile since then. But Alvin had him dancing on a dragon's mouth here. Astrid's amazing plan to render the dragon-sticks useless hinged on a non-suicidal reaction from Alvin and his men, and something in Alvin's eyes made Hiccup believe the man would carry out his threat. Hiccup might have told Alvin to stick his demands where the sun don't shine had it just been him in the danger zone. But with Toothless and Astrid and all his friends in the building, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

Hiccup sighed and said, "If I promise to give you a pardon, you'll hand over the weapon?"

Alvin laughed dismissively. "I'll need more than that. To start off, you can tell your pretty wife to (SMASH) hablablablabla…"

Alvin lost his train of thought, along with basic motor control, as his large frame fell forward to the ground with a thud, surrounded by pieces of woods that once resembled a three-legged stool. Hiccup wanted to believe that the day had just been saved by an animated wooden stool with a beef against Alvin, but it was hard to ignore the fact that Snotlout was standing behind Alvin's unconscious body, holding two of the stool's three broken legs and looking astonished to have pulled off his crazy move.

Snotlout then looked at Hiccup with a hopeful grin and said, "So… does _this_ square me yet?"

"Still moving in the right direction," said Hiccup tiredly, not quite ready to let Snotlout off the hook. "Ask me again after I'm not dying, and after we save Tempest Point."

* * *

><p>Three of Marcus's men had been locked up in a vacant storage room since Random and Alvin took over, the only three workers who hadn't been swayed by promises of wealth or threats of death. Marcus set them free and gave them the duty of escorting Alvin's men to the same vacant storage room, their new home until Hiccup knew what to do with them. Right now, Hiccup had more pressing concerns.<p>

After telling Fishlegs and the Twins to help lock up Alvin's men, Astrid ran to Hiccup and gave him a fierce hug that felt surprisingly brutal to poor poisoned Hiccup. Astrid felt the lack of strength in Hiccup's arms, cluing her in that something was wrong with him, that or the unnatural grayness in his skin.

"Gods, you're not looking well at all, Hiccup," she stated with a motherly tone. "I'm getting you back home to the healer."

"It's… not as bad as it looks, Astrid," he replied, holding off on the poison disclosure until Marcus and Snotlout could find the antidote… if there actually was one. Marcus had said that any cure would be in Random's room, hidden somewhere private, so once Alvin had been carted into the nearest animal cage Marcus had gone off with Snotlout to search Random's possessions. Snotlout wanted to get back in Hiccup's good graces, so he had offered to help. Hopefully Hiccup wouldn't regret saying yes.

Hiccup wasn't planning on concealing his condition much longer, nor could he, but once Astrid heard the word _poison,_ there would be no end to her freak-out, and she would sideline Hiccup immediately over his objections. Too many lives were on the line for that to happen. As it was, Astrid certainly wasn't buying Hiccup's feeble reasoning, but she hadn't jumped to any conclusions yet.

"Hiccup, you don't need to tough this out," she suggested. "Let me take it from here."

"Trust me, Astrid, I don't _want_ to tough this out, but Random has a head start on us and I can't sit this one out." He grimaced with frustration. "Thor's Hammer, I know where she's going, but I don't even know where _we_ are, so how can I…?"

"_I_ know where we are, Hiccup," stated Astrid. "How do you think we got here?"

"That's… actually a good question," said Hiccup.

Astrid gave Toothless a dirty look, the dragon sticking to Hiccup's side, his gaze utterly devoid of any guilt for leaving the Dragon Squad behind. "After Toothless took off on us, we were flying blind for a good hour before Fishlegs came up with his next brilliant idea – letting his dragon's tongue lead the way."

This one was new to Hiccup. "How did Chomps lead you here with her tongue?"

It was Fishlegs who fielded the question, walking back from imprisoning Alvin's men with his loyal Gronckle in tow. "I started thinking that there was still an algae trail to follow, just not one big enough for us to see. I figured that's what Toothless went after. It turns out that Gronckles have a very refined palate, and Chomp happened to like the taste of the algae, so I had her dip her tongue in the water so she could… you know, taste her way in the dark."

Hiccup was amazed by the idea. "And that worked?"

"For a while," said Astrid. "We had to fly really slow, but we made progress… until the trail stopped cold."

"And then _I_ found the island," piped up Tuffnut, joining the group with his sister and two-headed dragon at his side. "My superior tracking skills kicked in and…"

"We found it by dumb luck," cut off Ruffnut. "Emphasis on _dumb._"

"Let me guess," said Hiccup. "Search pattern, argument, island, argument, went back to get Astrid and Fishlegs, argument, and then rescue."

Tuffnut was much impressed by Hiccup's deductive skills. "Wow, did you gain Seer powers while you were gone? Is that why you look so terrible – because of the head pain from the visions?"

"No, idiot, he's just intelligent," said Ruffnut, though she did notice Hiccup's less-than-healthy complexion. "You have looked better, though."

"You do seem kind of gray around the gills," observed Fishlegs. "I'd say you have Nightmare Fever, but only Nadders and Terrors get that."

"Don't Nightmares get Nightmare Fever?" asked Ruffnut.

"No, they get Timberjack Cough," informed Fishlegs.

"Who is naming all these diseases?" asked Tuffnut. "And where can I find him so I can punch him?"

"Guys!" blurted out Hiccup, his knees almost buckling from the effort. "I'm not feeling good enough to put up with this right now, and we really need to get moving."

Astrid adamantly shook her head. "No, Hiccup. I'm not letting you go like this. You're in no condition to do anything."

"He'll be better soon, though," chimed in Snotlout, walking up with Marcus and wearing a look of utter triumph. He held a glass vial with a cork top, an amber liquid swishing within. Marcus held a polished wood box in his hands that reminded Hiccup of a keepsakes box that you placed little mementos into. It must have been the hiding spot for Random's poison/antidote stash.

"We had to paw through Random's personal wardrobe," said Marcus, "but luckily Snotlout found it in a hidden compartment in back. I felt it only appropriate that he present it to you." Marcus opened the box to reveal a padded interior, with four vial-shaped empty spaces cut out of the padding. There was also a parchment note tucked into the bottom of the lid, which Marcus extracted before closing the box again.

"It looks as if she had enough vials for two doses of poison and two dose of antidote," continued Marcus. "I dare not imagine who she used the first dose on, though I'm surprised that there was only the one dose of antidote that Snotlout found. Random must have had an accident at some point…"

"Wait, poison?" said Astrid, looking at Marcus suspiciously. "Why were you looking for poison?"

"No, no, no," said Snotlout rather cheerfully. "We were looking for the antidote. Hiccup needs…" He was a second too late in remembering that Hiccup had told him to keep the matter mum until Hiccup broke the news, but it came back to him right after seeing the unmistakably alarmed expression on Astrid's face as she put it together, the rest of his friends sporting similar looks as well. Thankfully for Snotlout, the target of her emotional outburst was not he.

"YOU"RE POISONED?" she yelled at Hiccup, who would have shrank back from her if he had the strength to do so, but instead held onto Toothless for dear life.

"Uh… kinda… yes," he meekly replied.

Astrid proceeded to pace about, muttering little curses under her breath as she vented. "You stupid… you were going to… how long did you know… No, doesn't matter, I'll yell at you when you're not poisoned. Snotlout, hand it over."

Snotlout hurriedly did so, Hiccup taking the vial and staring at the contents with a slight amount of reservation. "Not that I think you guys are trying to kill me, but how do we know this isn't more poison?"

Marcus held up the note from the box. "These are instructions. Clear liquid is poison, colored liquid is antidote. There was one warning attached." He unrolled the parchment and read from it. "Warning: side-effects may include hives, spontaneous desire to eat cheese, and severe drowsiness."

"Severe drowsiness?" said Hiccup. "Is the antidote going to put me to sleep?"

"Most likely," replied Marcus. "Beats being dead, don't you think?"

Instead of quaffing down the antidote like most people would have done in his situation, Hiccup continued to stare at the cure indecisively. Not understanding the holdup, Astrid gestured at Hiccup to hurry and drink up already. Hiccup's biological side was in complete agreement, as he could feel his body slowly weakening with each thump of his heartbeat. But as a man of conscience…

"Not yet," he declared, eliciting another round of shocked looks as he found a secure pouch on Toothless's saddle and tucked the antidote inside it.

"Hiccup, what are you doing?" Astrid said, her voice low and disbelieving.

"I'm saving the village of Tempest Point first," he stated, climbing back onto Toothless and ignoring the incredulous stares at his back. "I can't do that if I'm asleep.

"Hiccup, that's crazy!" exclaimed Astrid. "Drink the antidote!"

Hiccup shook his head as fiercely as he could, disregarding how much it hurt to do even that much. "I'm the only one who knows how to get to Tempest Point. Between Astrid and me we should be able to navigate our way there, and Random's dragons won't be moving as fast as ours. If we go now, we may still have a chance…"

"You are about to die!" Astrid looked ready to punch out Hiccup, or at the very least yank him from his saddle and force-feed him the antidote.

"I still have a few hours, Astrid. Besides, I'm taking the antidote with me. If it looks like a Valkyrie is about to swoop in and claim me, I'll drink it."

Astrid came up to him, and there was no anger in her eyes, only pure fear. It was harder to deal with than her angry eyes. "Hiccup, I know I said you need to stick to being you, but this is taking it too far."

Hiccup gave her a calm smile to try to reassure her. "Random is about to kill those villagers, and all so she can get rich selling weapons. I can't sit back and let that happen. You know I can't."

Astrid saw that his mind was made up, his stupid, stubborn, noble mind. She closed her eyes and considered following through on her desire to save Hiccup with a little rough action, but she had to admit that she couldn't sit back any more than Hiccup could, and they needed Hiccup to guide them to Tempest Point.

"This may finally be the stupidest-craziest thing you've ever done," said Astrid, opening her eyes again, her voice ten levels calmer than before. "But I'm going to be right at your side while you do it."

"I'm pretty sure I'll have worse ideas than this in the future, Astrid," said Hiccup, smiling thinly.

"Don't forget the rest of us," said Fishlegs, the others nodding in agreement. "We haven't done anything stupid in a long time."

"Speak for yourself," said Tuffnut. "I did something stupid just yesterday." His sister rolled her eyes and said nothing.

"I'll stay here and keep an eye on Alvin and his men," said Marcus. "You best keep in mind that while your dragons will respond much quicker than Random's, they are still vulnerable to the Alpha Signal."

"Yeah, I've thought of that," Hiccup replied. "But I'm pretty sure I know how to get around it." He didn't bother adding the one small caveat – that he'd stay alive long enough to pull it off.


	13. Tempest Point

**Author's Note:** Next week, the final two chapters (well, one chapter and one epilogue).

Onwards.

**Chapter Twelve: Tempest Point**

Most people found the act of dragon riding to be one of two experiences – immensely exhilarating or tremendously terrifying. Sometime even both. It is unclear why Random, someone who hated boredom more than sadism, found flying so humdrum, and Random herself would be hard pressed to explain it, but she experienced neither enjoyment nor terror during the flight to Tempest Peak. She simply saw it as a means to an end, and that end was what she was really looking forward to. Fireballs, bloodshed, the screams of the pathetically outmatched and overpowered - _that_ was the truly exciting part.

The dragons glided along in a neat V-formation, Random on a green Nadder, occupying the tip of the right wing while Second Random flew the lead position. Second Random proudly wore her stolen wing suit like it was a royal dress, and she stood out like a queen in a crowd of paupers while atop her Nightmare. She would be easy to spot, as would the two canisters dangling from the underside of their dragon carriers. Questions may arise from survivors about why dragons might be carrying such objects, but said survivors would be few and too traumatized to ever think clearly again. Random wanted a total massacre this time out, leaving behind a gutted village and enough corpses to fill an entire cemetery to capacity. Today, she would send a clear message to all the communities of the North Sea that their own families were in the worst kind of jeopardy from the people of Berk, and that it was time to start buying protection.

There was a part of her that wondered if leaving Alvin behind with no supervision constituted a weak spot in her plan, as Alvin's track record against Hiccup had been… well, there was no way to spin the words _complete and utter failure _positively. But she had left matters pretty well wrapped up, with Hiccup caged and dying and no probable way for Hiccup's tribe to find him, certainly not in time. It would take a blunder the size of the British Isles to ruin her plan now.

When she spotted the misty coastline and the faint contours of the forest that housed Tempest Point, she allowed a grin of triumph to creep onto her face. She was mere minutes from the target, and the sky was perfectly calm and friendly, though there was a chill to the western winds. Good thing she was packing heat of all kinds today.

* * *

><p>Hiccup had been on many a long flight before, and under normal circumstances a flight of three hours would barely make his bum itch. One didn't pick a Night Fury for transportation unless you were willing to put up with a tremendous amount of saddle time. But this time around Hiccup felt every jostle and bounce from turbulence. Every one of his joints felt raw and agonized, like he was stretched out past his tendons' breaking point. Without his wing suit or harness he was holding onto Toothless with just his strained arms and legs, his body betraying his attempts to hide his pain by making his forehead bead up with sweat. The hurting did bring clarity, as did the urgency of his mission, and while he did feel the occasional bout of lightheadedness, it lasted for a few scant seconds at best. He had told himself that if he felt lightheaded for too long that he would force himself to drink the antidote and then let Astrid take over the flying, but it was entirely possible that death wouldn't sneak up on him gradually but fall upon him like one of Gobber's anvils.<p>

The others had to be thinking the same thing, as they all watched him with worried expressions and silent mouths. Astrid flew Beatrix extremely close to Toothless, ready to come to the rescue the moment Hiccup faltered in any way. Astrid couldn't hide the intense concern in her eyes, and Hiccup feared that she would decide to call off this rescue mission without warning. But she was just as much a Champion as he was, and she held true to their intentions.

Hiccup was in too much pain to feel any real relief when he saw the flight of dragons to the south, their winged forms rapidly materializing out of the horizon, but he did feel ever-so-slightly better. Even though he trusted Astrid's navigational skills and his own extensive knowledge of the North Sea, cobbling together their collective knowledge had been a dicey affair. But even that meager relief went away when the Mainland coastline came into view less than a minute after the dragon raiders were spotted. They had caught up to Random, but only by the thinnest of margins, and they were still a few minutes away from interception.

There was also the other problem, but at least Hiccup had a way to address it… he hoped.

"Okay, guys, it's time," he ordered, his voice sounding way too frail for his tastes, especially since he felt like he was shouting his head off just to get that much out. Astrid and the others did hear him and understood what he meant without asking any dumb questions for once. Hiccup had briefed them extensively before departing Cold Fire Island, and even Ruff and Tuff had grasped the idea with little difficulty.

Hiccup bent down to Toothless's ear and said, "I know you're not going to like this, bud, but it's the only option we have." Toothless didn't exactly show signs of understanding Hiccup, but he didn't struggle or shake his head once Hiccup began stuffing the dragon's ears with the cotton supplied by Marcus. It was a tricky enough task to do while airborne, and Hiccup wasn't in the best shape to boot. But soon he had the dragon's ears stopped up with fuzzy whiteness, the dragon grimacing with mild discomfort but still cooperative. Hiccup then wrapped Toothless's ears with cloth, binding the cotton. Toothless looked like he had a pair of bandaged ears, which might have been comical if the situation wasn't so flipping serious.

"Can you hear me?" he yelled out to Toothless. The dragon made no response. Hiccup patted the dragon to get his attention and the dragon did look his way, wearing much insecurity. Hiccup felt immediately guilty for doing this and promised to give Toothless a feast of fresh fish for a whole week when this was over. He glanced about and saw the others were more or less successful in inhibiting their dragons' hearing, the Twins taking turns deafening the opposite heads of Barf/Belch. Snotlout had more trouble as Fenrir was getting agitated over the process, and all it would take was one brief burst of bodily combustion to ruin the binding. Snotlout had to spend a lot of time reassuring the Nightmare that his hearing wasn't going away forever.

This was why Hiccup wanted to save the deafening for right before they reached Random. Dragon hearing was much more sensitive than a human's, especially for the flying variety. It enabled them to maneuver fairly well at nighttime and through caves or other narrow geological formations, as well as making it hard to sneak up on them. But it also made them vulnerable to loud, sharp sounds, which could confuse or disorient them. And worse of all, it made them susceptible to an Alpha's call, whether or not it was a real Alpha doing the calling.

Deafened, the dragons should be immune to the ASD in Random's possession. Conversely, it meant the dragons have to rely on their riders to be their ears. This possibility had never occurred to Hiccup before, so naturally none of them had ever practiced deaf flying. Hiccup wouldn't have even considered this move on any dragon-rider pairing except for his squad, who knew their dragons better than they knew themselves… and even then, the odds were good that this could end very badly.

"Remember, guys, _you_ are the ears of your dragons now," he told the others. "We have to keep it this way until we take out the ASD."

"How will we know which dragon rider has the ASD?" said Fishlegs.

"That's easy," said Snotlout. "He'll be the one guy not shooting at us."

The dragons flew more erratically than before, and they were forced to distance themselves from each other to avoid midair collisions. Astrid's expression of concern had gained strength, as if she feared this new tactic had increased Hiccup's chances of sudden death. For all he knew, it had.

"The moment this is over," she said, "you are drinking that antidote. And if you don't do it, I _will_."

Hiccup had no reason to argue. The world was graying over even though the sun was blazing away above his head. He had precious little time left. But the same could be said for the people of Tempest Point, and they stood no chance against Random and her raiders. He had to hold out a little longer, because Toothless wouldn't be able to fight effectively without him, and considering that the squad was outgunned and outnumbered, Hiccup had to stay in the battle. Even if it killed him.

Well, if worse came to worse, they'd still erect a statue in his honor. The caption under it would probably be, "Chief Hiccup, the Viking with the shortest tenure as Chief in the history of Berk."

* * *

><p>The first seeds of excitement began to sprout inside Random as her raiders closed in on the village, the ant-like people ignorantly milling about as if everything was nice and typical. Having seen the results of Alvin's raids firsthand, she'd been looking forward to undertaking her own mayhem for some time now. Hell, those simple villagers should be <em>thanking<em> her for what she was about to do. After all, was what they were doing really considered living? Going about the same routine day in and day out, slaves to conformity and inane rituals, struggling to survive while getting nowhere for your efforts – a fate worse than death. She was about to give them the most exciting moments of their lives – it would also serve as their last ones.

She'd make it clean, though. No long suffering or anything too cruel. The four dragons carrying the two canisters would go in first and bomb the center of town, the resulting explosion set to destroy the majority of the village and scatter the survivors. Then the rest of the raiders would swoop in and pick off the survivors with their dragon-sticks, leaving a few alive to carry the tale of the destruction to other settlements. It would be quick and efficient, no torture, no looting. None of that macho dragon dung that Alvin would've inserted into the mix, with long speeches and threatening gestures and…

She was about to order her raiders to dive in when a little voice in her head said to look behind her. Perhaps the voice was instinct or the jitters that came before serious action, but she had learned to listen to that little voice. It always had a good reason to speak up.

She looked behind her and blanched at what she saw. Five dragons were gaining on her, and she recognized each and every one of them. Especially the leading one, the one that should be tied up and helpless. She also spotted her supposed partner-in-crime, Snotlout, and her mood soured even further. The lout wasn't as much a lout as she had wagered.

"Alvin," she mumbled, shaking her head in disgust. Why was it that all the men willing to do dirty deeds dirt cheap turned out to be bad at their jobs?

She immediately ordered five raiders to form up on her, creating a new V formation behind the six lead raiders, four of which carried the bombs beneath their dragons' claws, one of who cranked the ASD at a slow, constant rate. The sixth dragon held Second Random, who was unarmed save for her special wooden staff and thus useless against airborne threats. Her job was to stay out of the fight and look the part of a dashing young leader with an odd choice in apparel.

Random swiveled in her saddle so that she faced backwards, simultaneously pulling her dragon-stick from its holster and undoing the safety string. The other five raiders followed suit. There was no point in trying to intercept the incoming dragons. Random's mesmerized reptiles could only perform simple maneuvers. They'd be no match for trained dragons in a dragon-fight. But if they kept relatively still and steady, they made decent weapon platforms. The air was clear and the wind remained mild, and best of all it was broad daylight. It was perfect marksmen weather. And while she assumed that Hiccup had discovered a means to block out the ASD, it would do him no good. He was too much of a softie to allow the dragons under Random's control to come to harm, which meant he would be very careful with his attacks. She, on the other hand, didn't have that problem.

Let them come, then. This changed nothing. She would kill Hiccup and his allies and then obliterate Tempest Point just the same. At least now things would be more exciting.

* * *

><p>"They're switching formation," observed Astrid to Hiccup as the distance between her squad and the dragon raiders rapidly diminished. They were close enough to see the riders moving about on their flying steeds, preparing their weapons for what she had assumed was the attack on the village. Except six of the riders were now facing backwards while the ones with the explosives continued onward.<p>

"They must know we're coming," she continued. "The rear formation must be trying to stall us."

"We have to stop the bomb-carriers first," said Hiccup. "I'll go in and…"

"Not on your life," said Astrid adamantly. "I'll do it. You and the others distract the raiders."

Hiccup didn't bother to argue. Astrid was right. He was in no shape for fancy aerobatics. He nodded and said, "Remember not to aim for the dragons, and don't use your fire on the bombs. Those things will go up like a pair of Gobber's undies."

Astrid smiled at him, though it was strained at best. She didn't want to leave his side at all, but the time for action was now. The sooner Random went down, the sooner Hiccup got the heroics out of his system, along with the poison that was killing him.

Hiccup had to lean forward and gesture to Toothless was he wanted done, Toothless waggling his head in understanding. He then turned to the others and yelled out, "Distract the guys with the dragon-sticks for as long as you can. Don't fire on them until I say so."

"So they get to shoot at us but we can't shoot back?" said Snotlout. "I have a problem with this plan."

"Just do it, Snotlout," said Astrid. She then turned to Hiccup and, in a quieter voice, said, "Be careful, okay?" before zooming off to a higher altitude in preparation for her attack.

_Sure, I'll be careful_, he mused. _Wouldn't want to die before I… die, would I?_

He signaled Toothless and the others to commence the diversion, four dragons zooming right at the defensive formation like raptors pursuing a rabbit. Predictably, the raiders opened up with their dragon-sticks, the air suddenly alive with the blasts of ignited gas and the whines of speeding projectiles. Hiccup held tight to Toothless's neck as the Night Fury went into a series of hard turns, drawing the dragon's share of the fire as he teased the raiders with his jet-black profile. Even then, Toothless held back from his best maneuvers, quite aware of Hiccup's fragile status.

Snotlout had Fenrir pull the same stunts, all the while taunting the raiders with phrases like, "Your mothers are so skinny, they keep falling through the cracks in the roads," or, "Nice shooting, if you were aiming for the sky." Feeling emboldened by how easily he was dodging all those impossible-to-see projectiles, his need to get a little revenge on Random got the better of him and he pulled Fenrir into a tight turn followed by a sudden dive. He buzzed right over Random herself, forcing her and the rest of the raiders to duck and causing one raider to lose his grip on his weapon, the dragon-stick slipping away and twirling down into the writhing sea below.

"Ha!" said Snotlout. "You're no dragon-rider! You guys are all BANG…"

Snotlout felt something bash his helmet with the force of a hammer, knocking his head forward and shutting him up immediately. As Fenrir gained distance from the raiders, Snotlout gingerly took off his helmet and gawked at the new dent in his hand-me-down headgear. He felt up his head and found a small lump on the back of his scalp, tender to the touch but nothing serious. He then kissed the helmet, returned it to his head, and opted not to do anything stupid for the rest of the battle.

The Twins dispensed some of their Zippleback's remaining gas to create a handy cloud for zooming into and out of, while Fishlegs kept Chomps at a safer distance, hoping nobody noticed that there was a slower target to go after. The combined efforts of everyone involved kept the raiders' attention off Astrid, who formulated a plan in the few seconds she had while gaining the required altitude she needed for a rapid dive. She could see the villagers below looking up at the battle above their heads, pointing and shouting and running about in random directions. Some of them had to have a good idea what was happening, but none of them would be any help right now, not unless they had some anti-dragon weapons hiding in their haystacks.

Communicating to Beatrix via hand gesture was a lot more unnatural than Astrid anticipated, and she was afraid that the Nadder would misunderstand her intentions. They had a strong bond, though, and the Nadder showed no confusion as Astrid conveyed the plan. When you spent as much time with a dragon as she had, some things didn't have to be said to be understood. Still, this was one of the times when the spoken word would have been preferred.

Waving emphatically in front of Beatrix's reptilian eyes, Astrid put her Nadder into a hard dive, zooming right for the bomb carriers. This wasn't the smartest move to make, as Random would probably see her coming and focus her raiders' firepower on her. Not to mention that she was going too fast to make another pass at the dragons if she missed her target. The bomber-dragons were almost over the village, at which point there would be no way to stop them, and she wasn't about to let the people perish at Random's hands. But if she got this wrong, if she screwed this up, then Tempest Point became a burning disaster area.

No pressure.

The Random that actually noticed Astrid was the one wearing Hiccup's wing suit, and she yelled a warning to her comrades as Beatrix swooped over the heads of the rear defenders. A few dragon-sticks went off and Astrid swore she felt the passing of a projectile over her left shoulder, but she paid it no mind as she dived behind the bomber-dragons, right to eye-level with the two gas canisters rigged to blow. She could've ordered Beatrix to blow the tanks right then and there, but Astrid didn't feel like dying today. Instead, she patted Beatrix on the head twice in rapid succession while bringing forth her myssteel axe and letting loose with a powerful throw at the rightmost bomb, aiming not for the bomb itself but the straps holding it aloft. Simultaneously, Beatrix flicked her tail and sent a barrage of quills at the leftmost bomb and its straps.

It'd been some time since Astrid had seen her axe in action, and she'd been fearful that disuse had made her too rusty to make it work. But the axe found its target, slicing through one set of straps and then the next before guiding itself back to her hand, the bomb hovering for a second before plummeting, the dragons lurching upward in surprise as their burden abruptly escaped them. Beatrix's quills had the same effect, releasing the second bomb as well, and as Beatrix banked hard to recover from the dive Astrid watched the two bombs descend to the ground, cringing with anticipation, wondering if she had gotten the timing wrong and that she had inadvertently hastened the village's destruction.

The bombs didn't hit the sea, nor did they hit the village. The cliff wall the villagers had laid their foundations on arrested the bombs' fall, the canister colliding hard with the earthen slope and then transforming into a raucous cloud of fire, smoke, and flaming metal. Flame surged up and down the cliff like an ocean wave, scorching it mercilessly. Astrid felt the hot blast from the explosion, chilling her spirit despite its intense heat, and she feared the blast would somehow climb over the cliff and began devouring the village.

But like all waves, it could only extend so far, and while the smoke cloud lingered for some time afterwards, the flames fell back the way they came, subdued by the cooling waters below. The village, while freaked out beyond rationality, stood unscathed.

Astrid patted Beatrix warmly and then turned her in the direction of the continuing air skirmish. The immediate danger was over, but until Random was taken down, the battle remained unfinished… and Hiccup remained at Death's door.

* * *

><p>Random suppressed a cry of rage as she watched her bombs blow up dramatically but harmlessly against the cliffs of Tempest Point. That, plus the blatant fact that her dragon-sticks weren't the all-powerful game-changers she had hoped for, was making this battle is something other than a success. It turns out that fast-moving targets are actually quite hard to hit, no matter which weapon you used. Her men were going through ammo like it grew on trees. She only had three shots left herself, nowhere near enough to take down five dragons, much less wipe out a village.<p>

Random took further stock of her situation, and the stock wasn't coming up with much to cheer about. With the bombs detonated, Hiccup's next target had to be the ASD, and if that was taken out, the game ended. The dragons would snap out of Random's control, and they would undoubtedly be in bad spirits. Despite his reluctance to harm the dragons, Hiccup was proving his superiority in airborne tactics. If she kept her men in the air any longer, she would eventually be defeated.

One minute. One minute longer, and she would have won. Now she had to contemplate surrender, all because Alvin couldn't stay competent for one minute longer. She didn't even inflict any damage on the village, a helpless, insignificant village composed of small minds and…

The village.

They say necessity in the mother of all invention, but desperation is often just as inspirational. Such inspiration hit Random at that moment, and she marveled at how perfect it was. The victory would not be hers… but she could make it so that the victory belonged to no one at all, which worked for her.

"Fly down into the village and land!" she cried out to her raiders, eliciting more than a few confused looks. Even Second Random was baffled by the order.

"Fly down now!" she demanded, holding up her dragon-stick menacingly. "Or I'll start culling this crowd of cowards."

With no better options and with no desire to be culled, the raiders descended into the village proper. Random and her defending squad kept a tight ring around the raider with the ASD, firing off a couple volleys at the Night Fury and the Nadder when they started getting too close. Random kept one round at the ready – she'd need it shortly, but not for any obvious targets.

A chorus of screams and admonishments erupted from the locals as the dragons touched down uncomfortably near their flammable homes and businesses, though the enthralled dragons showed no hostility or even any acknowledgement of the villagers' existence. Random had the squad spread out across the village, then had them dismount and hold position, ordering the ASD operator to stand close to her. The operator continued to dutifully crank away as instructed, his fearful eyes on Random, as were the eyes of the rest of her men. Even Second Random wasn't sure where this was going, though her exact thoughts remained concealed, her face unreadable under her helmet.

Random cared not for their apprehension. It would become clear in short order, once Hiccup and his friends took the bait.

* * *

><p>Hiccup breathed a strained sigh of relief after seeing the bombs redecorate the cliffs of Tempest Point but not the village itself. Random and her raiders remained dangerous for now, but they only had so much ammo and gas at their disposal. Without the ability to use their dragons as fellow combatants, all those great flying beasts under Random's control would prove next to useless in a fight. All Hiccup had to do now was take out the ASD. He didn't want to fireball the dragon carrying the ASD operator, for despite the fireproof nature of dragon scales a plasma bolt could still cause serious harm to a dragon's hide. Perhaps a swoop-and-snatch move was in order.<p>

Hiccup didn't get a chance to explore the idea further as Random abruptly lived up to her name and did something… random. Her raiders descended into the village center while firing wild shots at the Dragon Squad to keep them at bay. As Hiccup circled and watched, the riders dismounted and stood by their charmed dragons, waiting around like men with too much time on their hands.

Astrid came back to escort duty after successfully thwarting Random's bombs, looking down on the village with much confusion. "Are they surrendering or something?"

"I'm not getting a surrender vibe here," said Hiccup. "They might be trying to take hostages."

"But they're not even moving," said Astrid. "What do you want to do?"

What Hiccup wanted to do was grab the antidote from the saddle pouch and chug it. He could see the world darkening at the edges of his vision, and he knew it had nothing to do with the weather. He probably had minutes left in his lifespan. If Alvin had been the one to pull this stunt, he might have left matters to Astrid. But Random was no dummy; she was up to something.

From her position on the ground, Random looked up toward Hiccup and locked eyes with him. She smiled thinly and shrugged, essentially taunting him to make the next move. It would have been easy to rain fire upon her, but for a moral guy like Hiccup that was out of the question and she knew it. Random struck him as that most dangerous type of crazy person – the one who understood exactly what she was doing.

"Follow me in," Hiccup said to Astrid, putting Toothless into a gentle descent. Astrid and the others exchanged uncertain glances but followed just the same. When he got close to Random's position he put Toothless into a stationary hover while the others circled the village to provide cover and to remind the raiders to behave themselves.

"I have to give you credit, Dragon Rider," shouted Random up to Hiccup. "I thought your reputation was over-hyped. But here you are, thwartin' my plans. Next time I need a scheme where I can kill you outright."

"No next time, Random," Hiccup stated. "Stand down and we can all leave here alive."

"We _could_ do that," said Random, her devilish smile returning in spades, "but seriously, where's the fun in that?"

She pointed at the ASD operator, and he hesitantly halted the crank. The spinning section of the ASD came to a stop, the mesmerizing music it made abruptly ceasing. All at once, Random's dragons snapped out of their dazed stupors, shaking their heads and sniffing the air and awaking to the fact that they were in unfamiliar territory. The dragons quickly grew fearful and agitated, snapping their necks around as they tried to make sense of their new surroundings, the unknown humans in their midst. Their riders stepped away and retreated, offering the dragons no support as their agitation escalated into snarls and growls of warning.

Hiccup's slowing heart found a little more zip to go on as he recognized the apprehensive looks in the newly freed dragons. He'd seen these reactions before, in caged dragons who had expected a fight and always got one. It was the ugly face of dragon training before Hiccup came along and turned the concept on its ear. Marcus had warned Hiccup that these dragons were too traumatized to ever fully trust humans, and here they were in a village full of them, many of whom were screaming hysterically and brandishing farm implements as protection. Too late, Hiccup understood what Random had done – she had brought another explosive charge into the village, only this one was made of dragon scales and emotional damage.

And then Random lit the fuse by pointing her dragon-stick into the air and pulling the trigger.

* * *

><p>The ear-pounding bang was no more remarkable than all the others Hiccup had heard during the fight, but its effect was far worse than any other shot before now. Every one of Random's dragons suddenly frenzied, their eyes wide with terror, their mouths snapping at the closest victim available, be it a fellow dragon or a fleshy human. Two Nadders collided with one another and started pummeling each other with their tails and snouts. One Nightmare decided to flee the scene while combusting his body, running right between a selection of hay wagons and setting them aflame. The sole Zippleback in the pack got its gas-head stuck under the torso of another Nightmare and panic-spewed puffs of combustion gas all over the place, causing minor explosions where the gas met fire. The village fell into disarray as villagers tried to quell the fires with bucket brigades or fend off the more aggressive dragons with pitchforks and hoes, but their efforts merely added to the insanity, freaking out the dragons even further.<p>

Random had not briefed her men on her plans, and they fared worse than the village, getting bashed around, gnashed at, or singed with errant dragon fire due to their close proximity to their former mounts. Random herself wisely ran for the outskirts of the village, dragging the ASD operator with her. Second Random had the same idea and ran after her double, leaving the village, the dragons, and their men in the dust.

Hiccup knew he should have felt more horrified at all this, but his body felt like a bag of lead, the world starting to spin around like a slow-moving top, every breath harder to achieve than the last. He had no time left at all, but if he didn't stop the dragons, Tempest Point would be destroyed. He had to…

Astrid flew her dragon right up to him before he could utter a single sound, and the ultra-serious look on her face meant she was done letting Hiccup be the hero. "Hiccup, you are drinking the antidote _now!_ I'll take care of this."

"Astrid…" Talking was now becoming a laborious affair, so he settled for nodding. He did succeed in pointing at Random and getting out three letters: "A…S…D…"

Astrid nodded, which Hiccup hoped meant she understood his idea. The other riders clustered around the two of them, looking for input, and Astrid snapped into squad-leader mode, ordering Fishlegs on fire prevention, Snotlout on diverting the dragons from the villagers, and the Twins to follow her lead. Toothless and the other Berkian dragons looked confused by the swift display of crazed behavior from their brethren below, not surprising since their ears were still stuffed up and they hadn't heard the shot. But they were more than willing to get into the fray, Chomps grabbing a large water basin and dumping it on the nearest burning structure, Fenrir crying out a challenge to a pair of Nightmares about to attack a cornered family (and much to Snotlout's dismay, convincing them to attack _him_ instead), and Beatrix buzzing a few other dragons and getting their attention before zooming after Random, Barf-Belch right on her tail.

Hiccup half-expected Toothless to zoom in and get involved as well, but the Night Fury kept to the sky, choosing to stay out of the mess. Toothless then glanced back at Hiccup with an unmistakable expression of grave concern for his beloved friend. When even your dragon was telling you to take the blasted antidote, it was time to take the hint. He'd have to trust that Astrid and the rest could save the day, because he was at his limits.

He reached down to grab the antidote from the saddle pouch… and had exactly one second to see a half-crazed Zippleback rushing right toward him and Toothless. The two-headed dragon had wrenched free of the dragon dog pile it was trapped under and took to the sky in an effort to escape the chaos. It barely even knew Toothless was in the way, and with the Night Fury's eyes watching Hiccup, he had no chance of dodging.

Hiccup couldn't even wheeze out a cry of denial before the crash sent him and Toothless spinning like a whirlpool into the ground.

* * *

><p>The two Randoms fled into the forest, pulling their subordinate with them, and Astrid pursued.<p>

Astrid's guts felt so tensed up they could've kept a longboat tethered to the shore. She had quietly endured watching Hiccup suffer through his heroic need to stop Random, constantly wishing he would grow a self-protective instinct or two and drink the antidote and let her save the day alone for once. But Hiccup, as always, had been infuriatingly right – without him, they would never have intercepted Random in time to save Tempest Point. She loved Hiccup with all her heart, but there were times she wanted to strangle him for the kind of emotional knots she tied up in her.

But since Hiccup was in no condition for strangulation, she'd settle for Random. The trick was to get to her, as Random was moving through a thick set of evergreens that prevented low-level dragon flying. To make matters worse, there was a thicker section right ahead, which would give Random a thousand places to hide. As cagey as Random was, if she made that part of the forest, she'd likely escape entirely, along with the ASD. Astrid could still hear the frantic tumult coming from the village behind her. If they didn't retrieve the ASD in short order, the village would be wrecked beyond repair.

Astrid didn't know which god dealt with luck and opportunity, but she remained in that god's good graces. A long gap of bare ground presented itself in the path of Random's trio, wide enough to fly a dragon into, but with no options for maneuvering. It was something to work with.

Astrid gestured at Beatrix to fly into the gap, and the dragon obeyed, her wings brushing against shaggy trees and spreading clouds of pine needles everywhere. The dragon hugged the ground as close as she dared, Astrid gripping her axe and timing her jump for the right moment. Three years of peaceful living hadn't dulled her skills as much as she feared, but a tree didn't care how skilled you were when it came to smacking into its trunk at a high velocity. It just broke your bones.

She leapt from her saddle, and her landing spot proved tree-free. She rolled as she hit and came up a dozen feet ahead of Random One and Random Two, both women shocked by Astrid's appearance. Beatrix sped on skyward, barely avoiding the large spruce at the end of the narrow gap. There was too much brush for a Nadder to be useful on the ground anyway.

Astrid brandished her axe at the trio, hoping that the sight of its myssteel edge would convince them to surrender. "I've had a long night, ladies, so just put your hands up and…"

Quick as a ticked-off wild boar, Second Random rushed her and tried to smash her head with that staff of hers. Surprised by the move, Astrid backed off a few steps and readied her axe for a fight.

"Get moving, dear Random," said Second Random, holding her pole in a defensive posture. "I'll keep her busy."

"With that thing?" said Astrid, gesturing at the staff. "My axe can cut rock."

Second Random smiled disconcertingly. "As you can see, my staff is not made of rock." Her mocking tone and the fact that she wore Hiccup's distinctive wing suit so casually incensed Astrid greatly. Lives were on the line and this woman wanted to clown around.

Random grabbed her mook's arm and ran for the gap, Second Random moving to keep Astrid from following. Astrid didn't have time for these antics, so she went with a simple overhead chomp designed to part the staff in two. Second Random brought it up to block… and did so. The axe head came down squarely on it and didn't penetrate, not even scratching it.

Astrid was so caught off-guard that she almost lost her footing when Second Random pushed the axe away and came at Astrid with a series of thrusts and jabs designed to keep Astrid off balance. Astrid got her guard up enough to block the attacks, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the staff's wood had weathered a blow that could split a dragon in half.

They traded more blows between the two of them, Second Random quite skilled in staff fighting but still not able to overcome Astrid's defensive routines. She was a better opponent than Ruffnut, who still saw melee combat as a matter of trying to hit things really hard, but Astrid suspected there was some mystical empowerment involved. The staff was coated in bizarre writing that didn't resemble any language Astrid knew of, not even the peculiar Artisanae alphabet.

Second Random's smile widened as she teased Astrid with a few jabs. "Not what you were expecting, right? Marcus didn't make _all_ the cool toys in my arsenal."

"I've seen better," shot back Astrid.

"Oh, right, all those pretty Alchemist airships you helped take down a few years back." Their weapons connected and weaved around each other briefly, like two dancers gauging each other's skill level. "I suppose after all that, you wouldn't be too impressed with a piece of indestructible wood."

"I might be more impressed if you told me who you really are," Astrid probed, suspecting the answer was going to be both ominous and vague.

"Oh, just an agent for somebody far more bored with the status quo than I am," said Second Random. Yep, ominous and vague. "Shouldn't you be trying to go after dear Random instead of chatting with me?"

A pair of throaty calls to action made Second Random's smile fade and Astrid's smile grow. They watched as First Random made it to the other side of the gap with the ASD operator in tow, only to suddenly sprout Vikings. Jumping from Bark-Belch at an uncomfortably-fast clip, Ruff and Tuff hurled themselves like the semi-suicidal nuts they were right into Random, bowling her over and pinning her to the ground underneath their combined mass. Her minion caught part of the attack as well and fell over, knocking himself loopy on a fallen log.

"I brought backup," remarked Astrid. "Shall we?"

Second Random was no longer amused. She swept her staff at Astrid's legs and overcompensated, allowing Astrid to sidestep the attack, roll behind Second Random, and smack her in the back of the head with the flat side of the axe. Second Random staggered but used the momentum of the hit to sprint away, racing behind a large pine. Astrid moved in and sprinted around the pine in a wide circle, no longer feeling the same respect for her adversary as before. One little tag to the head and Second Random runs off like a child playing hide-and-seek for the first time.

Readying her axe for a snap throw, Astrid rounded the tree to find Random… gone, but not entirely. Astrid gaped at what remained – Hiccup's wing suit, lying on the ground like discarded junk, complete with boots and arm guards and everything. Astrid frantically searched around for a nearly naked purple-haired woman, but no such lady was around. It had been only seconds – there was no natural way she could've slipped out of her clothing and disappeared. The staff had gone with Second Random, which made a weird kind of sense.

There was no time to dwell on supernatural matters, though. Besides, she had another Random to interrogate. Leaving Hiccup's suit in the dirt for now, Astrid ran to find Ruff and Tuff where she'd last left them.

She found them easily enough, but they apparently had a similar experience with their Random, as Ruffnut was holding Random's empty outfit in her hands, looking quite bewildered. "She just… disappeared," said Ruffnut. "One second, we're tackling her, and the next there's nothing but clothes."

"Maybe the clothes are haunted," said Tuffnut. "Or maybe they're ghost clothes."

"I think Random just escaped us," said Astrid, though the word _escape_ didn't sound right. It was almost like Random had simply ceased to exist, like how ice could go from solid to vapor in a matter of minutes if the weather was hot enough, leaving no trace of its transformation. Astrid wasn't sure why that particular image came to mind, but it was the best one she had to come up with.

But whoever (or whatever) Random really was, Astrid was done worrying about her. They had to get back to Hiccup and the village with the ASD while there was still a village to save.

* * *

><p>Twelve angry and fearful dragons were more than capable of wrecking havoc in even the strongest of human settlements, and while a few of them had fled to the sky or the outskirts of the village to flee their situation, most had been trained by Drago to confront fear by attacking it. If not for the efforts of Fishlegs and Snotlout, keeping the dragons occupied with diversions and taunts and flybys, the damage would have been far greater. But by the time Astrid and the Twins returned with the ASD in their clutches, several homes were on fire and several others had been badly mauled by rampaging dragons. The fires were about to spread out of control and the dragons weren't any calmer than before – the constant swelling of disorder fanned their agitation. Astrid had never seen such blind rage from a dragon, even during the worst dragon attacks on Berk. It broke her heart to see them like this, to see the village suffer for their pain, and it even broke her heart to have to order Tuffnut to start up the ASD once more and rob them of their free will. But she knew it was the only way to stop the attack. The dragons were beyond consolable.<p>

Astrid had the Twins circle the village on their two-headed dragon as Tuffnut cranked the ASD into life, a task that Astrid had no doubt he could handle. The device began to spin up its special music, and all at once the dragons ceased their growls and thrashing. There was barely a hesitation or flinch from them as they slipped into a mass state of stupor. They were so used to being controlled this way that they didn't fight it any longer. A calm arose around the village like the one that followed a violent storm, the dragons standing in place and staring off into the distance, the flying ones coming to a soft landing. It was like their brains had shut down, their wills pushed back into the farthest corner of their minds. Their rage and fear disappeared with the same ease as Random had, replaced by a mindlessness that made Astrid feel unclean, like she had robbed them of their very being.

The villagers couldn't believe the change in the dragons, though they had little time to marvel at the turnabout as the crackle of spreading fires and the moans of the wounded drew their immediate attention.

Astrid located Fishlegs and Snotlout at scattered points on the ground, both of them looking like they'd gone three wrestling rounds with a dragon – blackened, bruised, and bushed. Chomps and Fenrir were just as worn out. At least they didn't appeared injured as they helped the villagers put out the fires. But it was Hiccup she was most concerned about, and he was absent from the village airspace where she had left him.

She spotted Toothless at last on the ground just outside the eastern-most village home, and she might have been happy about that if she didn't also see a very prone and very still Hiccup right next to him, the dragon nudging his rider for a response and getting none.

Oh gods.

Astrid had Beatrix land so hard the dragon skidded twenty feet before coming to a stop, Astrid jumping off and sprinting to her husband, frantically hoping that he was just asleep and that Toothless's behavior was merely overwrought concern. Astrid reached Hiccup and gently turned him over, her heart stopping as she saw the pale-gray skin on his face had grown even grayer than before. Thankfully he responded to her touch by moaning and opening his eyes a sliver, his breathing slow and ragged. His clothes were covered in dirt stains and ripped in several places, as if he'd taken a bad tumble.

"Hiccup, did you take the antidote?" she asked quickly. "Please tell me…"

"Acc… accident," he got out, like it pained him to speak. "Crash."

Astrid felt like someone was sucking all the warmth out of her. How stupid she'd been. She should have watched him drink the antidote, should have made sure before leaving him.

"Where is it, Hiccup?" she desperately demanded. "Where'd it go?"

"P… pouch… saddle." Every word was slower than the last. He was fading away right before her.

Astrid whirled to her feet and ran to Toothless, the dragon holding deathly still while she searched the saddle pouches. On the very first try she found the right pouch, but instead of an antidote her hand came back out wet with gold-colored liquid clinging to it. There was not a single ounce of warmth left in her as she looked over the broken vial in her hands, empty of its former contents. The crash Hiccup had mentioned – it must have been the culprit.

"NO!" she cried out, her desperate voice echoing around the village. Of all the cruelties the world could render onto them, after everything they'd been through…

She ran back to Hiccup and knelt beside him. His eyes had closed again, and she slapped him lightly on the face to bring him back. But his eyes didn't open, his muscles going slack as she cradled him in her arms, willing him to stay alive, just stay alive, until they could get help somehow.

Just like Astrid, Toothless didn't know what to do other than to stand and look like the world's saddest dragon. There was nowhere to fly and no one to fight that would fix this. He couldn't even hear the pain in Astrid's voice, as his ears remained plugged up. He could only watch as Astrid hugged Hiccup to her, could only watch as his friend respired his final breaths.

"Stay with me, Hiccup," Astrid pleaded, tears already beginning to flow down her cheeks. "You're not going to die like this, you're not going to leave us like this. You keep fighting, like you've always done. We still have so much to do. Please, Hiccup, you can't…"

"Give him this."

She barely heard Snotlout say the words, but she didn't miss the fact that Snotlout was now there, dismounting from Fenrir and thrusting a vial of amber liquid in front of her. He looked as stricken as Toothless, but even though she recognized the miraculous cure in his hands, she didn't take it. This was, after all, Snotlout. He was almost never helpful. How in Valhalla did he have the cure?

He read the question on her face, and he answered it. "There was a second vial in Random's box and I took it, okay? I figured we might need it if Hiccup decided to get… Hiccupy."

Astrid wasn't sure what that meant, and she couldn't have cared less. She grabbed the vial from Snotlout, pulled the cork free, positioned it over Hiccup's open mouth, and poured every drop of golden liquid inside. She forced his mouth closed and watched his reflexive swallow go to work. She gently laid Hiccup on his back and sat cross-legged next to him, holding his right hand in her lap and watching him intently, waiting for a sign that Hiccup would survive this, waiting for the antidote to save his life and praying to every god in existence that they hadn't passed a point of no return.

She waited and watched… and waited… and watched…

* * *

><p>The cliff was one Hiccup knew intimately, a spot near his family home where you could see the clouds roll in from the east, where you could see every thunderhead and snow flurry coming from miles away. A place where you could see the enormity of the ocean, every roiling wave and every approaching ship… well, everything that was east of Berk. It was a private place in-between two copses of trees, a place Hiccup and one other person knew of.<p>

He didn't go there very often these days. Not much point when you could generate the best vantage points in the world on the back of a dragon. When Hiccup went there, he wasn't looking out at the world, but inwardly. He did it to touch on an old and comfortable presence, one he missed and would miss for the rest of his life.

This time around, he wasn't shocked at all to find the spot occupied by a man standing with his arms folded, an imposing man that made you feel like you could take on an army as long as he was standing with you. A man Hiccup knew all too well.

As comforted as he was by the sight of the man, Hiccup felt a bit… odd. Something amiss. This wasn't the right place, even though this was the isle of Berk and his home. He could see his house from here, the village center, the mountains beyond that. Hadn't he been somewhere else not so long ago, someplace he needed to be? The clouds had a peculiar pattern to them as well, circling around the island in a corkscrew fashion, as if Berk was the eye of a hurricane. They didn't seem ominous, but Hiccup felt like the clouds were… waiting. Biding their time.

Okay, actually, that _was_ ominous, and his warm nostalgic feeling was beginning to scram. This _was_ Berk, right? And that man standing at his private spot was…

"This is becoming a pattern with you, son," said Stoick, facing the sea instead of Hiccup. "I was hoping married life and chief duties would settle you down, but I guess that was too much to hope for."

Hiccup walked toward his dad cautiously, feeling increasingly bewildered with each step. "You know me, dad, always doing… wait, what did I do?"

Stoick laughed lightly and turned his head, his stern-yet-kind face a welcoming sight. "Still out of sorts, son? That's to be expected. I had the same reaction when it happened to me."

"When what happened?" Hiccup asked dumbly. His dad didn't answer other than to stare at him patiently. Hiccup felt his confusion grow as he tried piecing together his memory. He had been elsewhere, hadn't he? On the Mainland, at a village under attack by Random. He'd been in a lot of pain… poisoned… dying. And now he was back on Berk somehow with his dad and some weird clouds in the distance and…

"Wait… if I'm… and you're… and this is…" His eyes went big as it finally hit. "Am I dead?"

"A little bit," said his dad in a surprisingly calm way. "The fact that we're having this conversation is proof, don't you think?"

Hiccup was too overwhelmed to say anything back. Stoick came over to Hiccup's side and put a comforting arm around his son's shoulders. "Don't worry, son. I can already tell it isn't going to stick. You pushed it pretty close this time, though."

Hiccup fought past his shock enough to look back at his dad, though clarity remained elusive. This felt less like a dream than before, yet still felt like a dream just the same. Part of him wanted to believe it was a dream, because that would mean that he was still quite alive. The other part of him wanted to believe that his dad was really here with him again, and a dream-dad wouldn't be real, would it?

"Are you… is it… Dad, are you really here?" he dared to ask.

"I'm as here as I'm going to get," Stoick replied.

Hiccup frowned. "Great, that's nice and cryptic."

"That's as good as I can do with the time we have." Stoick said. He ushered Hiccup over to their favorite vantage point, where Hiccup could get a good look at the encircling clouds. He suspected that the clouds weren't really clouds, but then again this wasn't really Berk and that wasn't really water below him. And honestly, he didn't care as long as his dad was really his dad… not that he could be sure of that, either.

"I know you've been having your doubts, Hiccup," said Stoick. "That goes with the territory. It happens to every person who cares about the ones he leads. I could try to reassure you until I'm blue in the face that you have it in you to lead our people, but I don't think that's the problem."

"So what is the problem?"

"You're afraid to lead our people _your_ way, Hiccup," stated Stoick. "I'm here to tell you to get over it, son."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "Get over it, Dad? Just like that?"

"Well, you wouldn't be you if you didn't over-think everything, but that's about the gist of it." Stoick faced Hiccup and held him by the shoulders with his big meaty hands, hands full of that old strength once more. "I didn't pick you because you were my son, though that was a bonus. I picked you because the time of chiefs like me is done. I don't want you to honor me by leading like me, Hiccup. You've honored me enough to fill up ten Great Halls. So the next time you make a big decision, _don't_ ask yourself what I'd do. Understand?"

Hiccup nodded, feeling reassured by his dad's words. Even if this was just a dream-dad in front of him, he sure talked like the real thing. But with reassurance came sadness and he felt that familiar hole in his heart reopen a crack.

"So are you going to show up again when I need you?" he said quietly, feeling tears begin to well up in his eyes. "Or is this a one time thing?"

Stoick pulled his son in, gave him a rib-crushing hug, and released him once more. Then he placed a giant hand on Hiccup's chest, over his still-beating heart. "If you ever really need me, I'm always right here. But honestly, son, you've got more than enough people around you. They'll help you get through what's coming next."

Just like that, the warm sad moment got ominous. "Why? What's coming next?"

Stoick gave his son a patient smile. "I'd tell you, but much like a dream, these visions tend to…"


	14. A Chief And A Champion

**Chapter Thirteen: A Chief And A Champion**

He woke up.

Hiccup came wide awake, the world sharp and focused and unmistakably real. It might have had something to do with the nature of his bed, which was little more than a pile of hay and a few scratchy blankets. It wasn't real comfy, but considering how good he felt, a few prickly pieces of dried grass hardy mattered. The constant soreness and weakness that had all but enveloped him was gone, replaced by a placid sense of relief and ease.

Not his bed and not his house, though. A barn, from the looks of it, and a clean one at that. Light filtered in through a slightly ajar door to the side, allowing a good view of an otherwise nondescript barn and the dust motes that flitted through the air. The barn's design was not one used in Berkian architecture. Guess he'd been too fragile to move after drinking the antidote… except that he didn't remember drinking the antidote. It broke during the crash. Hiccup recalled how stupid he felt after that, though it was a short-lived feeling as consciousness mostly left him at that point. How did he survive after that?

Further thought on the question left him as a dragon tongue came in from the right and slobbered his face. Wiping away the spittle from his eyes, he was greeted with a happy dragon making little happy grunts and doing his best to refrain from drowning Hiccup in further tongue baths. Toothless had parked himself in the darker section of the barn, most likely standing vigil over Hiccup for as long as he was out. It had become standard procedure for the dragon, no surprise considering how often Hiccup wound up convalescing in bed.

Hiccup gave Toothless an affectionate rub on the face. "What number are we up to now, bud? Four or five? I'm not sure I count that mishap with Gobber's anvil… Hold on a sec."

He removed his blanket and did a quick limb check. Five, five, five, one – all good. No new additions or subtractions.

He looked up to see Toothless enthusiastically bounding out the door, letting more sunlight into the barn and giving Hiccup a narrow view of the outside. Not much to see except a section of forest and a partly cloudy sky and a few sheep grazing in a clearing. It gave him no clues about the state of things other than nothing was burning.

He thought about waiting for Toothless to return, as he suspected the dragon had gone off to notify the world of Hiccup's awakening, but he couldn't stand the thought of staying in bed any longer. He tested his muscles and found them disconcertingly lacking. He succeeded in sitting up in bed, but doing so made him groan with effort. Either his muscles had atrophied from a long period of bed rest, or the poison had done a bigger number on him than he expected.

A shadow entered the doorway, and in came Astrid at a jogger's gait, Toothless close behind her. Hiccup anticipated an eager greeting from her that involved a tackling hug or something equally physical, but she skidded to stop well before him and knelt down instead. She must have feared for him a good long while, her face marred with thick bags under her eyes and an expression crossed with equal parts relief and love.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like I might live," he replied, attempting to reassure her with a little smile.

Her eyes let slip a few tears and she gingerly kissed him on the forehead. "You're not allowed to do anything stupid for a good long while, you hear me?"

"I think we both know I can't make a promise like that," he joked. "How long was I out?"

"Four days. I hope you got a good rest because I sure didn't. You gave us a good scare a couple of times."

Hiccup nodded, his smile slipping away. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, part thank-you and part pure affection. "Well, if you get me up to speed, you can have as long a rest as you need. Just help me get to my feet, will you? I've been on my back long enough."

* * *

><p>She filled him in as they walked from the barn, the sunlight harsh on Hiccup's eyes after his time in the dark. He leaned on her as he had been doing for years now, and it pleased him to hear how she took down Random and saved Tempest Point before too much damage was wrought. A bit disconcerting that Random up and disappeared as if she had never existed, though non-existent people didn't leave their clothes behind in the process. Random must have some powerful mystical qualities to her, which naturally meant she would be showing up in the future, because that's how these things worked.<p>

The barn resided outside the village proper, not so far that any healthy person couldn't have made the village center in a few minutes. For Hiccup, it took longer. The soreness in his muscles now only materialized when he moved, though it had diminished to a tolerable ache. He asked Astrid to go slow just the same, with Toothless walking beside them in protective-dragon mode.

Much to Hiccup's easement, most of the village stood intact. Those structures tarred with burn and collision damage were under repair, though a few looked too far gone to be salvaged. The villagers themselves had fared better, several injured but none fatally or permanently. The initial brunt of the dragons' anger had been reaped on Random's men apparently – two dead, several wounded, and the rest having fled during the chaos. If Astrid hadn't recovered the ASD when she did, the villagers would have been next.

Hiccup expected a lot of dirty or even angry looks from the villagers as he passed through the center, but mostly he got a lot of tired eyes, uncertain eyes. Most of them were too busy trying to put their lives back together to give him much thought. Perhaps that was for the best.

Positive signs were in good supply as well. Fishlegs buzzed in on Chomps to deliver a supply of rocks for the foundation of a new home, Chomps holding them in her mouth like a chipmunk collecting nuts and then letting them avalanche out where needed. Snotlout was overseeing Fenrir, Beatrix, and Barf-Belch as they carried in lumber from the forest, with Ick and Rick… Mike and Dick… the village leaders giving him instructions on where to put it. The Twins appeared to be doing nothing more important than entertaining the villager children, sitting on a log with a crowd of youngsters thronging them, but it kept the kids from running underfoot. Surprisingly, the Twins were keeping the children's attention. Hiccup got close enough to overhear why.

"So there was this giant ship that was flying in the sky," said Tuffnut, "and it had all these angry people on it that wanted to go down to this big city and take away everyone's stuff."

"How did the ship fly?" asked one interested child.

"Oh, you know, magic," said Ruffnut. "How else would it fly?"

"Maybe it had big wings like your dragons," said another child.

Tuffnut looked over at his sister. "I don't remember. Did it?"

"No, it didn't have wings," she replied. "It floated, like in the ocean. They also had these special harnesses that could make rocks float as well."

"That's silly," said a third child. "Rocks can't float, they sink."

"That's what I thought, too," said Ruffnut. "But then I saw this mean lady throwing rocks at everyone and I believed it."

"How'd you stop her?" said a fourth child.

"Well, first we had to find her," said Ruffnut, "because we wound up in this big desert, which is a really hot and dry place. My brother and I…"

Hiccup didn't need to hear any more. He knew this story already. At least Ruffnut seemed to be enjoying her role as storyteller. Ruffnut was finally getting some appreciation for her exploits. Also, the Twins weren't doing anything stupid – always a plus.

"Ruff and Tuff – babysitters," commented Astrid as they moved on past the crowd of kids. "Who'd have thought it?"

Hiccup chuckled at the idea, but then felt a more serious concern creep in. Two of them, in fact. "So everyone's been here this whole time, waiting for me to wake up?"

"Fishlegs went home to check up on the village and let Gobber know what happened," said Astrid. "We thought about bringing more people over to help out with reconstruction, but I decided that more dragons would probably make the villagers nervous."

"And that brings me to my other question: what happened to Marcus's dragons?"

Astrid pointed to a grove of trees outside the village, where the beginnings of a clearing could be seen. "We're keeping them over there. Marcus and what's left of his men are keeping them calm and away from the village."

"Marcus is here?" said a surprised Hiccup. "Why isn't he back on his island?"

Astrid hesitated before speaking. "I'll let him tell you. I only know the story secondhand."

Hiccup wanted to ask for further elaboration – he was sick of mysteries – but then a recognizable villager popped up right in their path, wielding an axe this time instead of a hoe and looking only marginally friendlier than before. Funny how Hiccup couldn't remember the names of the village leaders but had no trouble recalling Maddie and her sullen disposition.

"I see you're out and about finally," said Maddie. "Did you get tired of napping while the rest of us worked?"

"You're not serious, are you?" said Astrid, giving the heavy-set woman a dark glare. "After everything we just did…"

"Easy, Astrid," said Hiccup, really hoping to avoid any further diplomatic incidents. "If she has something to say, let her say it."

Toothless eyed her warily, mostly because of the axe in her hand. Maddie smiled thinly, making no threatening gestures but keeping her intentions impossible to read. "It was close to three years ago when this impossible metal creature came rampaging through our village, destroying our homes, wrecking our lives. Not just a metal beast, but black fire dropping from the sky, this strange guy who glowed every time he whacked something, and a couple of kids riding on the back of a scary dragon. We didn't know who was fighting whom or why, we didn't know why it started or why it ended. We never got any answers. All we could do was rebuild and go on with our lives, wondering what we did to deserve such insanity, wondering if it would happen again."

Her stare intensified as it bore into Hiccup, making him feel like he was on trial for his life. "That was the craziest day we've ever had, and I know the village doesn't remember you, Chief Hiccup. But I do. You and Astrid here just showing up, bringing mayhem into our lives and then taking off after the damage was done. I always wondered what I'd do if I ever saw you again, and then you showed up a few days ago, acting like you'd never been here before. I recognized you, Chief Hiccup, and I have to say that I didn't think kind thoughts of you. I half-suspected you were the one leading the dragon raiders."

Hiccup wasn't doing a good job of hiding his guilty look, and he opted to be straight with Maddie. She and her village deserved that much. "I know what happened three years ago looked pretty bad…"

Maddie waved away his words. "It really doesn't matter to me what your explanation is. I probably wouldn't like it anyway. I suspect the village wouldn't like it either. But you know what? I'm not saying a thing, and I never will. Because you didn't have to come help us. You _never_ had to come help us. You almost _died_ trying to help us. Yet you came just the same. When it's all said and done, that says it all, and I will never forget it. _We_ will never forget it."

She put her axe to the side, took Hiccup's hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her judgmental expression became one of gratitude, sincere and genuine.

"Bless you, Chief Hiccup."

And just like that, she was off again, axe in hand and on her way to the forest. Hiccup, Astrid, and Toothless stood there for a few moments, silently watching Maddie leave. Hiccup felt a bit lighter now, as if one less brick-of-responsibility had been lifted from his shoulders. Even if nothing else good came from all this, he would've found Maddie's words reward enough.

* * *

><p>The only things that grew in the clearing was dead stumps and rocks, making it perfect for a dozen traumatized dragons that were still a little flame-happy. They had found spots on the ground to bed down on, some of them having incurred new injuries and scars from the recent chaos. Bandages and splints had been applied, fresh fish had been supplied, and they had all the distance they needed from the village to feel safe for now.<p>

Hiccup watched them for a time before going to see Marcus, who was dividing up the dragons' morning meal into separate baskets while his three remaining men served it. Tents and stockpiles of worldly goods were scattered about the front of the clearing, enough to imply that Marcus intended to stick around longer than a few days. At least there were no dragon-sticks lying around or any related equipment.

Hiccup hadn't wanted to think about it until now, but it was hard to ignore the dilemma he had on his hands. These dragons could flee the scene at any time, but they chose to stay. They accepted a certain degree of human presence, but they would never fit into a human society. And thanks to Random, they had even less trust of humans than before.

"I hope your dragon-training instincts are good to go," said Astrid solemnly, "because I don't have a clue what to do here."

Toothless seemed almost sad as he gazed on his fellow flyers. Hiccup reasoned Toothless must feel their pain, or at least had some dragon empathy. That didn't stop Toothless from sticking close to Hiccup, his body tense in anticipation of action. Just because you felt empathy for someone didn't mean you trusted them.

Marcus noticed Hiccup's little trio and came over to greet him, though his mood was more somber than jovial. Like Astrid, he looked like he hadn't slept at all over the last four days, and he wore a bandage on his right arm that wasn't there the last time Hiccup had seen him.

"Glad to see you awake, Chief Hiccup," said Marcus, shaking Hiccup's hand. "I guess the Valkyries weren't ready to claim you yet."

_Or maybe my dad had a hand in it_, Hiccup mused. He hadn't told anyone about his dream encounter yet, and he didn't plan to. It might have been only a dream brought on by near-death, or it might have been more than that. Regardless, he felt like it was a moment made especially, and solely, for him. No need to share such things.

"I'm too much Viking for even them," Hiccup joked. "I'm glad to see you, but a little surprised you're here instead of on your island."

Marcus sighed heavily, clearly not armed with happy news. "There's no reason to be on my island any longer. My workshop is gone."

Hiccup gaped at the news. "I'm guessing that it didn't get up and walk away."

Marcus turned and looked back at his dragon wards, as if facing away from Hiccup and Astrid made it easier to speak. "The supply room, the one with my stores of combustion gas. It just… exploded, without warning and without a known cause. My men and I were on the other side of the workshop when it happened. The door flew across the workshop like it had been shot out of one of my dragon-sticks, followed by this great wave of fire and heat that scorched and melted my equipment on contact. There was no way to contain it, and the wave started igniting every flammable substance in my home. I knew we had minutes before the entire workshop was consumed. Thankfully the dock was untouched and I able to get my men and a few belongings to our ship before the flames reached us."

He faced Hiccup again, and there was evident sadness rimming his eyes. "Maybe it was only a matter of time. Maybe it's penance for my role in these terrible matters. But I watched as my workshop, my home, everything that I had spent years building, burn up in less time than it takes to cook a fish on a skewer."

"I am sorry, Marcus," said Hiccup sincerely. "What about Alvin and his men?"

"That's the interesting part – they were already gone," replied Marcus. "Despite my feelings toward the man, I wasn't about to leave him to die like that. I went to free him from the storage room we had locked them in, only to find it empty. I'm not sure how long they'd been gone, or how they could've escaped the island, but I strongly suspect Random was behind it."

"I'd go with that idea," said Astrid.

"Was anything else missing?" asked Hiccup. "Gas, weapons, equipment?"

Marcus shrugged forlornly. "I don't know. Random played me so well that I'm surprised I'm not wearing lyre strings. Who knows what she managed to steal or ship off before the workshop went up. The only thing I can account for is the ASD."

He pointed at a tree stump near his tent, where a very-smashed thing lay in several jagged pieces. Hiccup had planned on asking what had become of the Alpha Signal Device; now he didn't have to.

"I should have destroyed it a long time ago," explained Marcus. "Too tempting not to use and too easy to abuse."

"Could anyone else make one?" asked Hiccup. "Are there plans hiding somewhere?"

Marcus shook his head. "Drago was the only one who knew how to build it. Hopefully we'll never see the likes of it again."

"What about your dragon-sticks?" asked Astrid. "You starting up again?"

Marcus let out a rueful laugh. "I think I'm finished with that particular dream of mine. I wanted so badly to turn what I learned under Drago into something good that I didn't consider all the consequences. Instead of stopping war, I almost caused one. I was a fool all around."

"You weren't that much of a fool, Marcus," said Hiccup. "It's not a bad thing to want to help others. By themselves, your dragon-sticks aren't evil. What they're used for depends on whose hands are holding them."

"Maybe," said Marcus, "but it always seems like the wrong hands are the first ones to reach out for them. I have to wonder – if we could go back in time and find the inventor of the crossbow and tell him about all the lives ended or ruined due to his invention, would he think of his creation as just a tool? No, after all this, I can't be the one responsible for bringing more pain into the world. Someone else can have that distinction."

Hiccup honestly felt bad for the guy. Hiccup had had a pretty good run with his dreams in the last few years, and it was hard to see a guy whose heart had been in the right place watch a dream explode before him. Then again, Hiccup was kinda glad that it _had _failed. The world didn't need any more instruments of destruction than it already had.

Unfortunately, Hiccup suspected that this was only an interlude in the steady advancement of human ingenuity. Marcus had made a giant leap forward in the field of explosive-powered projectiles, and even if he chose not to pursue it further, somebody else eventually would. On the day, the world would become a more dangerous place to be, and people would have to learn to live with it.

Hiccup glanced over at Toothless, who was giving him an _are we going flying at some point today?_ look, and as Hiccup patted his pal's snout he considered once again how dragons weren't easily categorized as friend or foe. They could help repair a village or raze it to the ground, bond with you or destroy you. But more than that, dragons had minds and wills of their own, and given a choice they desired happiness and peace instead of violence and hostility. If you were responsible with your dragon, if you treated them with love and friendship, you had little to fear from them. Even if you created a machine that could strip away the will of a dragon for a time, you couldn't strip it away completely or forever. They still had their minds, and they remembered all acts of kindness and cruelties. Marcus's dragons might not like humans in general, but they did respond to Marcus with toleration. They accepted him in their lives because he cared about them.

That was the one important difference between a dragon and a dragon-stick. A dragon-stick, like any weapon, fought for whoever wielded it. Take it away from its owner, and it could kill its owner without any doubt, hesitation, or consternation. Hiccup would gladly take one dragon over a hundred dragon-sticks any day of the…

"Chief Hiccup?" said Marcus. "You okay?"

Hiccup started again. Man, he really had to stop with the mid-conversation musings. Bad habit. "Uh, sorry. Miles away again."

Astrid smiled knowingly. "He does that sometimes. So, Marcus, if you're out of the weapon business, what do you plan on doing now?"

"I need to tend to my dragons," he answered. "They are Drago's true victims, and I haven't been helping them like I should have. For now, they need to heal, but they will need to either return to the wild or become part of a willing human settlement. The village leaders of Tempest Point are willing to let them stay here for now, but I doubt they are willing to go any further than that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Hiccup. "They've had four days with our dragons. They've seen the good and the bad. They might surprise you. You can also make the argument that a community with dragons is not likely to be messed with by pirates and such."

"You could also sweeten the deal by becoming their blacksmith," added Astrid. "The one they have here can't forge a horseshoe to save his life."

"Just know that we'll help you if you need it," said Hiccup. "Dragon-training is kind of my thing, you know."

All the helpful suggestions did brighten Marcus's mood, and a smile made it to his lips. "Thank you. Thank you both… and you too, Toothless." The dragon waggled his head at him in gratitude. "I wish I had more to offer you than just…"

His eyes widened as an epiphany struck, and Marcus disappeared into his tent only to quickly reappear with a set of rolled-up parchments. He handed one to Hiccup, who then unrolled it and found a nicely detailed schematic inside. It took Hiccup a second to realize what it was, and he wasn't sure whether to be grateful or shocked.

"Uh, Marcus, these are your gas canister designs," he said.

"And they're yours," said Marcus. "My gift for all your efforts, since I know you're not a fan of dark bitter."

"Well, thanks, but I'm not sure what I can do with them."

Marcus grinned and chuckled lightly. "I'm sure you'll find a purpose for them. Certainly a better one than what I had planned."

It was almost too much a gift to accept, especially since Marcus was all but handing over his dream project to Hiccup. But intrigue and inspiration soon curbed his doubts, and he graciously accepted the plans. Marcus was right – given enough time, Hiccup would find a use for the technology that didn't involve accelerating metal balls to fatal levels of velocity. And maybe Marcus's dream could live on in some way, even if Marcus himself had given up on it.

* * *

><p>A day of kibitzing and well wishing and negotiating went by, and Hiccup felt absolutely exhausted just from standing around and talking. Not quite one-hundred-percent yet. But he managed to get a basic treaty with Tempest Point going and put in a good word for Marcus with the village leaders, What-Their-Names. He and his crew would leave for Berk in the morning, as Astrid insisted that he get in another good night's sleep before riding Toothless for a long period of time. He did miss his bed and the comfortable surroundings of Berk, but he could stomach one more night on a hay-bed if it made Astrid feel better. She had put in the dragon's share of the work this time out and she needed a good night's rest more than he did.<p>

He and Toothless now stood upon a little hill above Tempest Point as the sun began to hide itself below the horizon. The hill was the same one that Hiccup had visited three years ago after a harrowing battle with undead abominations and metal Guardians. A few of the trees had died off over time, but for the most part it was still the same lovely little vantage point it had been all those years ago. Better yet, he was looking over a village in a far better shape than he'd left it last time.

"Funny how things work out, bud," said Hiccup to his silent companion, who was more focused on a mouse rustling around in the brush than Hiccup. "I've always felt like I left these people in the lurch all those years ago. Maybe the Gods were giving us a chance to make things right this time."

Toothless didn't offer any reply. That mouse was just too interesting. So be it. Hiccup did have a purpose for visiting this hill again beyond nostalgia, and said purpose finally decided to show himself, squeezing through the brambles and groaning from the exertion of climbing the hill.

"Geez, did we have to do this all the way out here?" said Snotlout, plucking burs and prickly seeds from his clothes. "And did I have to leave Fenrir behind?"

"Yes, and yes," said Hiccup. "Consider it part of your penance."

Snotlout heard the word _penance_ and his attitude immediately shifted to a more chastened state. He came before Hiccup and stood quietly, awaiting (and dreading) Hiccup's next words.

"Snotlout, you and I have known each other all our lives," began Hiccup, "and let's be honest, what we've had going could not be called a friendship. I couldn't call you an enemy, either. I'm… not sure what we have. There's no word in Norse that describes what we have. Over the years, I've taken your abuse, your insults, your selfishness, and your body odor, and I've tolerated it because I had to… and because I believed you were a good person at heart."

Snotlout looked at Hiccup timidly, unsure if this speech was heading in a good or bad direction. "And… what do you think now?"

Hiccup sighed. "Snotlout, you crossed a line with Random. There's no other way to put it. You put your own interests above your chief and above Berk. I know why you did it, and I know you didn't know Random was using you, but that doesn't change the fact that your actions put Berk in danger. But then you went and risked your life and saved mine, even when you had the chance to get exactly what you've been wanting – wealth and power. That muddies the waters a bit for me."

"Does that mean I'm not exiled?" said Snotlout hopefully.

"It means two things, Snotlout," stated Hiccup. "As a reward for stopping Random and saving my life, I'm not telling anyone about what you did. It stays between you and me."

Snotlout didn't seem that impressed with Hiccup's idea of a reward. "That's my reward?"

"Yes, Snotlout. You got me out of the mess you helped create. Even though I'm willing to forgive you, if Astrid and the others were to find out what you did, they'd demand a trial and I'd have to give them one. Your father would find out, your family would find out, everyone in the village would find out. Even if I wasn't forced to exile you, your reputation would never be the same."

Snotlout's face made the expression of a man who had come to realize the severity of the situation. "When you put it that way, it does sound like a good reward. But what's the other thing?"

Hiccup grew more serious and took a step closer to Snotlout. "The other thing is that this is your last chance. I'm not the guy you used to bully, Snotlout. I'm your chief. I'm going to be your chief for a long time if I can help it. You're going to have to put away your resentments of me. I don't expect you to kowtow or act like you're my best friend, but I do expect a level of respect and common sense. If we ever have a conversation like this again, I will not cover for you, and I will not let it slide. Do you understand?"

Snotlout gravely nodded his understanding. "For what it's worth, I've learned my lesson. I'm done competing with you, or blaming you for my problems. You're in charge and I'm… still me. And that's the way things are, I guess. So you don't have to worry. I won't screw up like this again."

Hiccup allowed Snotlout the last word, and he dismissed him to go get some sleep before their trip back to Berk at sunrise. As he watched Snotlout walk down the hill, a doubt crept into his mind that he couldn't shake. Not a doubt about his decision – he felt Snotlout deserved a second chance – but about their future. People were capable of changing, but they could only change so far. Was he and Snotlout forever doomed to suffer this idiotic rivalry, or could Snotlout learn to put his childish nature aside and live more harmoniously with his new chief?

Hiccup hoped he could, because he wasn't getting a third chance.

* * *

><p>The trip home proved deliciously uneventful for once. And the homecoming was wonderfully dry and boring. Other than the traders finally fixing their ship and sailing off, nothing more than a few disputes had occurred in Berk over the six days that Hiccup was absent. Hurray for small favors.<p>

A few days afterwards, once Hiccup felt well enough to walk around without grimacing the whole time, there was a call for a general village assembly, which meant lighting up the Great Hall and filling it with practically every soul in Berk. Such assemblies occurred when a matter of importance needed to be addressed in the presence of the village populace. It would be the first one Hiccup had called, and the first time he had spoken to the people all at once since giving a little acceptance spiel on the day he was made Chief.

As such, his nerves were on edge, more so than any time flying on Toothless. Aerial maneuvers he could handle. Standing in front of a bunch of burly Vikings with jobs to go to, short tempers, and accessible weapons? Not so much.

At the far end of the Great Hall resided a raised platform for special ceremonies and speechifying. Hiccup took the center stage. For moral support he had Toothless standing to his left and the Dragon Squad on his right, Astrid having ordered them to attend under threat of hideous injury. They shuffled their feet and looked as confused as the general audience as to what this was about, but otherwise acted professionally.

Hiccup still had his doubts about what he was about to do, what he was about to say, but his heart was telling him that this needed to be done. He took a deep breath, raised his hands to his people to get their silence, and started in with the speech.

"I thank you all for coming here this morning. I know we have fish to catch and dragons to fly and roofs to thatch up and a million other things to worry about. But I wanted to clear the air here. I wanted you all to understand who your Chief really is, and where I intend to take Berk for here on out."

So far, so good. He had their attention and no one throwing produce yet.

"I think of my father as a great leader. Not because he could wrestle a dragon to the ground with his bare hands, but because he put the village before himself. 'A chief protects his own' – he said that a lot. He said a lot of other things as well, like don't sneak up on a yak from the rear, but he really meant that one phrase. A Chief has to be look out for his people. Not glory, not fame, and not wealth, but the good of the people. It was a good saying… but it's not the _best_ saying I've ever heard."

A small reaction from the audience that time, uncertain glances and faces. Hiccup questioning his father's wisdom – that was unexpected.

"When I first started this job, I thought the best way to lead you all was to be just like my dad. I know it made me feel better, and I got the impression that it made all of you feel better. I've tried to keep us from getting involved in other people's problems, to put the village first and not let my own personal curiosity and adventurism bring trouble to our front doors. Again, just like I thought Dad would want it. But my dad's way of doing things worked back when we didn't have dragons that could fly us to other islands in hours instead of taking days by boat. It worked back when the world was closed off to us and we only worried about surviving the next dragon attack. Most of you know something about what happened to me over the six days I was gone from Berk, but the thing you need to know the most is that there are forces out there working against us, forces who don't need to ever invade or attack us to hurt us. They're not like Alvin or the Berserkers – they're a lot smarter. They will make people afraid of us and use it to their own advantage, and they won't have to work hard to do it. We're Vikings with dragons – the horror story almost writes itself."

Hiccup gauged his audience's mood. Some people still had uncertainty, others were more skeptical, and still others seemed to be in a receptive mood. A split crowd, which was better than a hostile one. Hiccup took another deep breath and kept going.

"But it's more than just our own self-interest. Astrid and I were out in the big world for almost a year, the longest time I've ever been away from Berk. During that time, we met all kinds of people; some just like Alvin, some a lot worse than him. But we also met a lot of good people from many different cultures, people who only want to find their way through this crazy thing we call life. People who want peace, who don't want fear and hatred to run their lives. And… and I met a few people with no family of their own, no tribe to belong to, who were willing to put aside their differences and their misgivings with each other to do something greater. They were willing to lay down their lives for people they had never met, for a future they may never be a part of. I fought alongside them… and I consider them my own just as I consider all of you my own.

"You see, folks, you have a problem. I am your Chief, but I am also a Champion. And while a Chief protects his own, a Champion stands for all. So I am not going to sit by while other people suffer. I am not going to ignore a cry for help. I am not going to have us hide and play it safe. We are going to go out there and show the world who we really are. We are going to reach out to our neighbors – not just other Norse tribes, but all tribes. We are going to forge bonds and trade routes and alliances. We are going to make mistakes and get into fights, because there's no way around that. We are going to do this because it's right. And if we put the same amount of effort into this that we once put into fighting dragons… I know we will make it work."

Hiccup hadn't realized how passionate he'd gotten toward the end until he quit talking and heard the reverberations of his speech echoing around the Great Hall. Then the echo quit and only silence remained, a lot of surprised eyes watching Hiccup as he stood in place, awaiting the inevitable response and keeping the worry off his face. It was the first time he'd ever gotten fired up during a speech, and he surprised himself with how easily the words had flowed. Maybe some of his father really was stuck in him somewhere, not that it would do him much good if his people walked out the door or started protesting loudly.

But if anyone was in fact protesting, it was hard to hear them over the chorus of enthusiastic claps and less-enthusiastic cheers when the crowd finally reacted. There remained uncertainty in some people's eyes, a few scowls and shaking heads here and there, but most of the people responded to him with a hearty round of support. Astrid and the rest of the gang joined in, Toothless growling happily as well, and the Hall rang with thunderous applause that made it feel like the village was five times bigger than it should be.

Hiccup allowed himself a smile. At the very least, he had performed a great speech. That was the easy part. Now for the hard part… which was everything else.

* * *

><p>When Hiccup was finally able to escape the Hall and get some fresh air, he wandered over to an old familiar spot not far from his family home. Funny thing was how much it looked almost exactly like what he had dreamed before, right down to the number of pine needles in the trees flanking the vantage point. The weather was different, no circling clouds in the distance, just your normal rolling mist and distant thunderheads.<p>

He stood there alone, sorting his thoughts out. He felt better here than next to his Dad's statue, as if this spot had a part of his father's heart and soul residing in the dirt under his feet. He felt tethered to his dad here, like this would be the one place in the world that he could always find a connection if he needed it.

No ghost-dad arose from the sea, though. Nothing dramatic like that. Just a little piece of serenity in a world that was always running short. Maybe that was the real point of his dream/vision/visitation, and if it was, it would be enough.

"I hope I made the right decision, Dad," Hiccup said aloud. "It certainly felt like the right one."

Neither the trees, nor the ground, nor the clouds, nor the sea, gave him any response. No answer from his dad, either. Perhaps that was the point.

"_That_ was definitely more like it," came Astrid's cheerful voice from the side. She and Toothless had escaped the Hall as well, Toothless racing past Astrid with several happy bounds and getting a good head scratch from Hiccup for winning the race. Astrid got the runner-up prize: a good long kiss and a tight hug.

Beatrix showed up right then to greet Astrid, filling up the final slot in their immediate family at the spot that once belonged only to Hiccup and his dad. The idea of family was a broad one to Hiccup; it included friends both close and distant, a series of overlapping circles that spread out across the world. But it always started with the people who kept you going in the best times and the worst times, whether they were human or dragon.

"So you don't think I'm flying us all into a hurricane?" Hiccup asked Astrid.

"I'm sure there are storms ahead of us, Hiccup," she replied. "But anything worth doing is worth a few storms, don't you think?"

Hiccup nodded. "I suspect one of those storms is going to be named Random. She and her boss are going to show up again."

"Yeah, she will," agreed Astrid. "But she can't be anything worse than what we've already taken on before."

Hiccup closed his eyes and groaned. "Did you _really _have to say that?"

She smiled. "No, but I like daring the universe."

He pulled her in close in preparation for another kiss._ "_There's no way I'd have survived this long without you. You know that, right?"

"I thought that was a given," she replied, right before their lips warmly met again.


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Alvin could never stand forests. They had all kinds of insects that crawled on your skin while you were sleeping, the bramble was always scratching your body, and the wildlife was always determined to nibble off your extremities. But they did have one good feature: concealment. A forest offered a lot of hiding places, as well as cover from flying reptilian pests that might be searching for you. Not as good as a series of underground caverns, but it would have to do.

As Alvin and the remainder of his men stood before the forest, preparing to enter it and eek out a meager existence, he couldn't help wondering how things might have played out if he had sided with Marcus instead of Random. He might have usurped the whole enterprise from that two-bit scholar in time, much like how he had taken control of Outcast Island. Betraying Random couldn't have produced a worse result than being forced to live in some nondescript forest in the middle of nowhere, with not a single human settlement for hundreds of miles. He wasn't even sure where he was, though he could pin down his location to somewhere on the Mainland. Hopefully he'd find a trail or road that would lead him to civilization, or…

"Best get a move-on, Alvin-boy. Daylight is wasting."

Alvin bit back a retort as he faced Random again. The woman stood there with her devil-enchanted staff, expecting him to follow her orders despite him no longer being in her employ. If it weren't for the fact that she had saved his life and taken him and his men from Cold Fire Island before the place had its fiery remodeling, he would have probably killed her. Even if her boss came to take vengeance later, it would've been worth it.

"So this is where we part ways, I take it?" he said.

"If it was up to me, we would've parted ways a week ago," she replied. "I'd have left you to burn in the fire."

"Ah," said Alvin. "Your boss wanted me alive, did he? Tell him I'm through with him, too."

"Oh, he's aware. He didn't have me save you because you're a great minion. He just thinks you're a great agent of chaos. No matter where you go or what you do, you always cause a mess. I think he… admires that."

Alvin laughed. "And you don't? I thought you were all about chaos."

"Only when it's fun," she replied, smirking at him. "You're a lot of things, Alvin-boy, but _fun_ isn't one of them."

Alvin looked away to watch his men proceed into the forest, none of them intending to wait for him to catch up. It didn't matter if they snubbed him right now. He'd earn their respect back eventually. He always did.

"Well, try not to cry when you think about me in your dreams, Random," he said, turning his head back to her. "I know I'm a heart breaker, but…"

She was gone, as in non-existent. Alvin gaped at the pile of clothes on the ground where there had once been a purple-haired woman. The staff had gone with her as well.

With his men rapidly leaving him behind, Alvin didn't have time to linger. He quickly gathered up Random's clothes and jogged after his men, figuring that cloth and fabric were going to become precious commodities in the near future. He also vowed to steer clear of any purple-haired people from now on. Too much deviltry in them for his taste.

* * *

><p>Several hundred miles away, in a far more cold and foreboding place, another Random felt the proverbial twinge that came with one of her doubles returning, like a piece of her had been reconnected, making her feel more complete. It was this twinge that reminded this Random that she was the real one, the genuine article, not one of the numerous copies that roamed about the world on various assignments. With the twinge came new knowledge and experience, incorporating itself into her as seamlessly as if the knowledge had always been there in her mind. It was how she kept track of events so far away that it would take months of travel to deliver any pertinent news.<p>

As much as she relished being the original Random, it was the only perk to her current situation. The other Randoms got to journey to warmer climates and experience a variety of amazing stimuli and situations. What did she have? A hovel built out of snow stuck in an unpleasant wasteland next to a giant hole in the ground, with nothing but ice and a lot of seal meat to keep her going. Joy. Her lot in life was to be the connection to her "copies," the central link in the chain. Each copy could mentally send her a piece of pertinent information, which Random could then send along to another copy in another part of the world. Such a process was taxing and only small amounts of information could be sent this way, but the speed of the process was unbeatable. Need to deliver a list of dragon types from one island to the next? Done in a blink of an eye, as long as you had one Random on each island. It was great for spying and foiling ambitious plans, though it often meant keeping the copies in the wilderness for long days or even weeks, and a Random copy got as bored as the real thing.

As the frigid arctic wind blew around her and tiny snowflakes coated her fur-laden clothing, she paid homage before the Great Crater, kneeling in the snow on one knee in supplication to her boss… her master, awaiting his commands. She had finished telling him all the details of the failed effort to bring wholesale chaos to the North Sea region, and she feared his reaction. They had gone through a lot of copies to make this operation work, a tremendous effort since it took time to send out the copies, outfit them, and get them into positions of influence. The one she just felt return had been the third "loss" since the operation began.

"Just to let you know, Random 13 just returned," she spoke, her head down and eyes averted from the crater, from her master. "Alvin is out of the way, as you requested."

There was a low rumbling in the air ahead of her, and then a voice spoke out through the rumbling. Even after all this time in her master's presence, she still felt massive chills every time he spoke. The voice wasn't just one voice, but several talking together in unison… except when it wasn't. Sometimes it was a harsh, throaty voice. Sometimes a high tenor. Sometimes feminine, sometime masculine. This time it was deep and alluring, seductive and almost charming. That one was the worst one, because when it talked you wanted to believe what it said, no matter how terrible the words were.

_Good,_ it said. _Perhaps he will create more chaos in time. If not, then he is sufficiently absent from our lives to not hinder our plans._

"I didn't think he was going to mess us up so badly," she replied, fearing his judgment and hoping to mitigate it. He was not fond of failure, not at all.

_I would not say that things are so… messed up. _

Random almost looked up in surprise, but caught herself in time. To look upon him unbidden was against the rules, and she would take no chances. Personally, she had no problem with that. His power had not come with a handsome body – far from it.

"Really?" she said. "But Hiccup stopped us. No war, no chaos, no anything."

_Hiccup shows a propensity for intervention that will eventually bring trouble. That will work in our favor. Besides, you sent the weapons and materials I requested down south, correct?_

"Of course," she said.

_Then my other agent will do his job, and our goal proceeds as expected. You can lose a battle here and there, Random, as long as you avoid losing the war. In the meantime, we will search for the Threat and create a new plan for Berk, one that will be far more… direct._

"Yes, boss," said Random, profoundly relieved that no punishment was incoming, though the idea of searching for "the Threat" didn't please her. Snipe-hunt, that was. "I'll get going on another group of copies right away."

_Please do,_ her master said. _I have been waiting for this time for so many years, and I shan't be denied my true destiny any longer._

Random stood up and headed for her hovel while keeping her head down, happy to be escaping her master's immediate presence even if it meant spent several days indoors creating and readying a bunch of new copies. As disturbing as all this was, as miserable as she frequently got, it beat getting on her master's bad side.

Because once he got up to speed, once his plans began to unfurl, no one alive would be able to stand in his way.

**Yes, To Be Continued**

* * *

><p><strong>Final Word: <strong>As I mentioned at the beginning of the story, this is the start of a new (and final) trilogy in my _Dragons: Champions_ story arc. I'm shooting to release the next story around June 2015 and the final one before the end of 2015, probably December.

Thank you again to all of you who read my work and the few of you who send me your regards, and I'll be seeing you down the road.


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